


The DogEared Pile: Unfinished and Abandoned Stories.

by Vykyll



Category: Dishonored (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Hawke, Background Relationships, Blood, Blood Kink, Blood Magic, Body Modification, Child Abuse, Crossover, Dark Magic, Demons, Drowning, Dunwall (Dishonored), Explicit Language, High Chaos (Dishonored), Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, LGBTQ Themes, Lovers To Enemies, Lyrium, Modern Character in Thedas, Multi, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Other, Out of Character, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, Self-Harm, Shapeshifting, Spirits, Spirits Are People Too!, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Stuttering, Suicide Attempt, The Fade, The Void, Thedas, Underage Prostitution, Unreliable Narrator, Werewolves, Whales, dreams/visions, unfinished stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-07-03 10:11:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 167,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15816786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vykyll/pseuds/Vykyll
Summary: I have a LOT of backlogged stories that I will never truly finish.Don't want them to go to waste, not being read and that.So, I'm making a'DogEared'pile of them for you all to enjoy.Index:Ch 1:New life, new rules: Reflected/Refracted short: The View.(Alex Knight Spoiler)Ch 2 & 3:New life, new rules: The Broken Ones.(Alt-Fenris, Spirits & Demons)Ch 4 & 5:The gentle slope of the mountain.(Alt-M!Hawke)Ch 6:Leather And Fade.(MCiT)Ch 7, 8, & 9:From these emerald waters doth life begin anew.(Dishonored/Dragon Age crossover)Ch 10, 11, 12 & beyond:The Band of Blighters.(F!Hawke & M!Morrigan)





	1. New life, new rules: Reflected/Refracted short: The View.

**Author's Note:**

> As always... please kindly leave any hate at the door and just enjoy what I write. Thanks. <3
> 
> **ONWARD TO THE DOGEARED STORIES PILGRIMS!**

**9:39 Dragon.**  
  
Alex frowned at Anders grinning at him like a lunatic, "What have you done now?"  
  
"ME? Oh, nothing."  
  
Yeah, he wasn't buying it at all. Something was going on, especially the way the mage smirked turning on his heel to walk away. Ugh, Alex didn't need this right now, not with the bloody wailing dead practically screaming around them. Eh, Nevarra was actually more pretty then he thought it would be. The necropolis were stunning as the sun sets behind them.  
  
God, just reminded him of Egypt, of the Inca and Mayan back home.  
  
"You coming?" Anders called to him, still grinning.  
  
Alex rolled his eyes, brushing the sand from his backside, "Where we going anyhow?"  
  
"You'll see."  
  
UGH! Seriously? All he wanted to do, was get Anders under the covers, but nooooo, the sodding mage it seems had other ideas.  
  
He pouted trailing after the older man, kicking up plumes of sand like a petulant child. Major bumped his leg boofing up at him, Trouble ran around in circles with Lyna, trying to chase Sarge in the sand. But he, was feeling, hell he didn't know what he was feeling right now. Miserable? Yeah, that was it.  
  
Anders peaked his head around from the other side of the tent, inching his finger, "Stop pouting, brat. Come on."  
  
"Babe, what the hells going on?" he ended up whining, still kicking up sand everywhere, "Not really in the-"  
  
Alex's jaw fell onto the ground, looking over what he can only describe as a well laid out picnic on grass. GRASS! In the sodding sand! Where in the name of-  
  
"Happy anniversary, love."  
  
"Anniv- Oh my God-" Alex slammed his hands over his mouth, he completely forgot, "I'm such an idiot."  
  
Anders pulled him down to his chuckling mouth, "Yes you are, brat. But my idiot, nonetheless," they kissed just as the sun set completely over the necropolis.  
  
Years now they've had their on/off relationship, but ever since Kirkwall, they've been virtually inseparable. He can't believe he forgot their anniversary at all.  
  
Oh, he'll make it up to the man, by God will he as he smirked in the kiss, carding his hands through loose long blond hair. Let it be know, Alex Knight is no Scrooge. Even if his romantic intentions were... less then romantic. And more... plow you like a field.  
  
"Love," Anders ghosted his breath on his lips, his honey colour eyes catching the dimming light, "Of all the views in Thedas, of everything we've seen together. The one right here, the one with you standing there, will always be the best view there ever is."  
  
Alex choked, he, actually choked with that putting both his hands on the older mans face, "Soppy git. Making me get all squishy."  
  
  
Years later, he'll watch a different view on his own remembering that night, thumbing the earring in his pocket as he thinks. Of all the views he's ever seen since being here, none will fill those spots where he lost them. No matter what he does, it'll be empty.  
  
The view changes, but he doesn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex Knight can be found here: New life, new rules: Reflected - https://archiveofourown.org/works/12806868/
> 
> New life, new rules: Refracted - https://archiveofourown.org/works/13421025/


	2. New life, new rules: The Broken Ones (Part one)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demon. Animal. Monster. A thing that came into existence, broken and twisted. That was more him then the Mages friend. Suspicion was abound around them, fingers being pointed because of what they are, what they look like. But they don't quite know what they are any more.  
> Again, that was more him then anything. 
> 
> Even if the other one was... different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A different kind of story in the NLNR universe, which revolves around an unfortunate being: From birth and beyond.
> 
> An outlook on how 'I' see and feel spirits are born, shaped, given what they are supposed to be within the fade which may go wrong.
> 
> But not just that, its about the positive side to Anders and Justice as well. Their friendship, kinship, relationship with Hawke and the relationships between spirits & demons.  
> About Fenris (Whos a little different in this fic) and him letting his walls down completely, realising he's not a broken monster after all.

**One - The Birth of the Idea.**  
  
It was dark, they remember that. It was dark but they were there. Warmth filled them out, stretched and filled them, pulled them this way and that then snapped back into nothingness. The process was repeated several times before fingers twitched, a toe shaped then changed.  
  
They could feel the presence of several others nearby watching them. The thought knows that, they do this when one of their kind is created, they watch and wait to see what will be. They feel Wisdom, they hear them through the ear that sprung up, listening to the soft whispering loud voices around them.  
  
It sounded strange. Is that what its supposed to be like when their other ear shaped? Was it supposed to be quietly loud?  
  
They couldn't see yet, for they had no eyes to see from. But they could sense Wisdom moving closer, tutting, they could sense Pride pacing back and forth with the toes that touched something under them. More and more came to watch this one being shaped, watched and waited to see what maybe.  
  
But it felt like frowning when they flexed their hands, they still couldn't see, but they felt their face being formed. It, was strange to feel your existence coming into such. They all go through this, all of them. Why do they know that?  
  
"Somethings not right," Wisdom hummed next to them, "Its taking too long."  
  
They wanted to saying something, but they had no mouth to speak from yet. They flinched as something heavy went over their newly formed head, slowly weighing them down. They wanted to put a hand up to feel what it was, but their arms were not fully formed yet, just fingers twitching against nothing.  
  
"Perhaps this one is broken?"  
  
That one sounded like Justice? No, no, that was Valor talking with Wisdom. Yes, Valor.  
  
"I don't think so, but it shouldn't be taking this long for it to form. Somethings interfering with its birth."  
  
Valor touched their face, then sighed stepping back, "This was perhaps not the best of places for one such as this to be created, Wisdom. But I fear this one is broken."  
  
Broken? They weren't broken, were they? No, no they weren't when they finally moved an arm to their head and felt the heavy weight there. They frowned feeling the thing under their hand, feeling the slight bumps running their fingers over the odd curved shape. Something tugged on them from the distance. But what?  
  
"Indeed, you maybe right. It still can't see. Can you hear me young one?"  
  
They nodded their head still touching the thing weighing them down, but no sound came from their lips when they moved them.  
  
"Do you know what you are?" Wisdom held their hand, "Do you understand what's happening to you?"  
  
They frowned again trying to see out of eyes that were not there, lips parted trying to form words that wouldn't come at all. They tilted their head instead, they knew what was happening but they didn't know what they were.  
  
"Oh child. You were shaped from an idea, a stray thought of a desire to be helped. You, are Desire, young one. But yet..." Wisdom held their hand tighter, "It shouldn't be taking this long to shape you."  
  
"This place, is a curse on all of us," a Justice barked from somewhere, "Why do we linger near this filth?"  
  
"Because they need our help, they all do. If you do not wish to linger Justice, then take Valor with you away from this place. There is little either of you can do here as it is," Wisdom sighed out mournfully, "I will not linger much longer either when this one is fully formed."  
  
Justice huffed in annoyance next to them, its presence filling its own with righteous fury, "You remain here any longer Wisdom, then you'll end up like the others. This injustice of our kind-"  
  
"Now is not the time. I said leave."  
  
"No, you come with us now! Leave this broken one here," Justice's righteousness filled them again blinking their forming eyes to the blurry things around them, "Leave this filth of a place behind."  
  
The hand was taken away from theirs when the blurry thing of Wisdom stepped away from them. Valor had already left, Justice was angry they can tell that when they walked away from them, Wisdom bowing their head when they walked away too. They felt... alone.  
  
The thing that was them lowered their own head when even Pride just scoffed walking away. Why were they broken? Why were they not what their supposed to be when they looked at their hands with blurry eyes. Something tugged on them again like before, pulling, tugging, telling them to come. But where?  
  
They didn't know as they tried to see around their home. They wanted to ask for help themselves, but there was none around them any more, they had left them there on their own trying to be created. Sorrow flooded them trying to walk on legs that were theirs, but fell onto the ground when they didn't work properly. The same tug snapped at them once more, a voice in the shadows begging for help, begging for someone to hear them.  
  
They frowned trying to stand, trying to find where the whispery voice was coming from. They could help, couldn't they? Yes, they will try and help as they stood on shaky legs. They followed the voice, they followed the sound of something they don't quite know but should, begging for mercy.  
  
They weren't Mercy were they? They were Desire. Aren't they? They didn't know still trying to see around them.  
  
"Help me, please!"  
  
The voice was louder now, was louder when they put their hands out to brace themselves when they fell over again. They wanted to answer back, but the only sound was 'Unnhh' from their mouth.  
  
"Maker, if anyone can hear me, I beg you. Please help me. Please."  
  
They decided to crawl to the voice, they wanted to help them, they had a pull of desire to help them. The voice then gasped when they crawled closer on their hands and knees, they can see that they had something strange around them. Magic. Yes, that was magic. And lyrium, the life force of all. Yes, yes thats what it all was. They know that.  
  
"No, stay back," the magic lyrium thing backed away from them, "Maker, I-" they stopped looking at them, "What are you?"  
  
They stopped their crawl looking at the thing in-front, tilting their head trying to bring them into focus, "Mmmmmaaaaa-" they tried to speak but it sounded muffled.  
  
"I wanted help, but," the magic lyrium thing walked slowly over to them, kneeling down with its hands out, "but, I think your the one who needs it. Your a demon? No, you don't feel like a demon at all."  
  
They sat back on their haunches looking at the thing in-front of them, they put their own hand out to touch its. They frowned doing it again, not quiet understanding why this thing felt different to them when they should feel the same. This magic lyrium thing was frowning too.  
  
"Do you have a name?"  
  
They shook their head putting their hand on the things again, brushing their fingers down to its arm, then tugged on the clothing, "Aaav-aaavv-" they were getting frustrated with the muffled odd sound coming from them "Aaavviii."  
  
"Avvi? Is, that your name? Maker, why am I sitting here talking to a demon of all things. Anders would have a fit if he knew," the thing took their hand with theirs, "My name is Karl Thekla. Your not exactly what I was trying to ask for help from. I was hoping for Compassion or Mercy, but there isn't a thing around any more."  
  
They tilted their head again and nodded in agreement. They had already left, but they didn't know why.  
  
"Okay, Avvi. Maybe you can help me, well, perhaps. I've never seen a Desire look as you do," this Karl thing looked them over then behind them, they looked around as well looking at the thing laying on the floor attached to them, "I think your tails broken."  
  
They stared at the thing called tail trying to move it. Where did that come from? They grabbed it when it didn't move and stared at it even more in their hands. Everything on them seems broken, why were they broken?  
  
"Avvi," they looked back at the Karl thing, "Can you help me? I won't slit my wrists for you, I hope you know that. But, perhaps you can help to keep Templars away from me. Thats all I ask of you."  
  
Templar? Why does that sound familiar? Why does that fill them with anger? They blink a few times then nod.  
  
"Maker, thank you. They've been threaten to Tranquil me for some reason at the moment. I think it's because I was sneaking letters out from the Gallows to my friend. If they ever found out," Karl thing swallowed loudly, "they'll kill him. He said he was coming to get me sometime ago, but I'm not so sure any more."  
  
Tranquil, they know that too. A horrible thing done to magic lyrium creatures like this Karl thing. They know that. They know its wrong. They nodded again trying to smile putting their hand out, dropping the thing called tail onto the floor. The Karl thing smiled back nodding its head.  
  
Something tugged on them, making them look about themselves. Karl thing flinched in their hands holding them even tighter.  
  
"Oh Maker, I have to wake up. Thats the Templars doing their rounds cleansing everything. Avvi, I have to go now," Karl thing looked sad, "I, I-" everything twitched around them its eyes widen trying to unclasp their hands.  
  
Even they tried to let go when something hit them both. They let out a muffled pain sound from their lips, they felt like they were burning up inside. This wasn't like the warmth when they were formed, this warmth burned inside and out.  
  
They screwed their eyes shut at the pain, at the burning letting Karl things hand go. They were being pulled through something the more the pain went through them, pulled and ripped away from the feeling of home.  
  
They felt strange when they felt something under them. They felt strange and muted laying on something that wasn't warm at all. Cold, yes, it was cold when they opened their eyes. Cold and smelt odd when they lifted their head.  
  
This wasn't home, was it? No, this wasn't when they sat up looking about themselves. This wasn't home at all. It felt heavy and empty as they tried to stand on shaking legs. They felt something else nearby and tried to turn their head to see. Their head felt strange too.  
  
"Makers bloody breath, Avvi! How did you get here?"  
  
Karl thing was looking at them from the ground, its eyes were large, its hands were going to its mouth as it stood.  
  
"You can't be here. Oh Maker if they find you here they'll kill us both!"  
  
They frowned looking at the Karl thing putting their hand out, trying to speak.  
  
"Nnnooo," was all they said before they fell back onto the floor.

* * *

  
**Two - The Chantry Disaster.**  
  
Anders peaked around the Chantry door for the umpteenth time, hoping and bloody praying Karl hadn't left yet. And hoped to everything Hawke helped them get Karl out. Justice wasn't particularly happy about the whole situation, Anders agreed with him on that.  
  
A year, a sodding bloody year they tried to get to Karl, trying to figure out the best way to get to him, only to have the short but sweet letter telling him to come to the Chantry tonight.  
  
Karl was never that short in his letters, but it had been almost three months since he last heard from him. 'Too many eyes watching them, too many ears listening in that place,' Karl had written. But yet, three months later he gets just a short letter?  
  
Something wasn't right.  
  
Anders was beginning to fret this was taking too long. Hawke hadn't arrived yet with his brother, with Varric either. He felt hot and cold at the same time, Justice was trying to calm him down, but Anders was just too worked up at the moment.  
  
'Breathe, my friend. He will be fine.'  
  
Anders nodded, wringing his fingers together, 'I know. But this is taking too bloody long. If Hawkes not here within the next hour, we're doing this ourselves.'  
  
'Someone is coming,' Justice rumbled like a distant thunderstorm within him.  
  
Darkened figures were coming towards the Chantry, Anders couldn't see who they were yet and pushed further back into the shadows in-case it was those bloody bandits again. Four of them came running through the Chantry courtyard, the pale moonlight barely touching them as they got closer.  
  
Anders narrowed his eyes, the sighed when he recognised Hawke running up the Chantry steps with his brother, the dwarf and an elf with white hair. Justice perked up when he felt the strong tug of lyrium get closer, then they both flinched at the feeling of dirty magic tucked deep within the blue.  
  
"Anders," Hawke muttered running a hand through his loose black hair, "we're here. Sorry it took so bloody long."  
  
He stepped out from the shadows with a furrowed brow looking at them all, "I saw Karl go in a while ago. No Templars so far, don't mean their not around though."  
  
"Yeah, we fought off a few bandits on the way," Hawke shrugged then flexed his bare arms, "Didn't stand a chance not with how awesome we are."  
  
His brother just lets out a groan, "Really Garrett? Can we fucking get this over and done with so I can go home."  
  
"And once again, Carver whines like a Mabari bitch," this rather tall, tattooed, white haired elf rolls his eyes, then narrows them at him, "What do we intend to do here?"  
  
Anders peaked around the door again then back at them, "Get Karl far away from here as possible. But if theres Templars-"  
  
"Fasta Vass, do you intend to kill them? Are you another mage?"  
  
Anders nodded, "Yeah I am. As I was saying-"  
  
This white haired elf snarled his lip up him, pointing his finger right at his heart, "If you attempt to get us all killed, I will kill you. I didn't come all this way to be chained to yet another mage. That includes you Hawke. I will only kill Templars if they deem to be a threat to me. But if you summon anything, Mage, I will take the heart out from your chest and feed it to you. Understand."  
  
Anders eyes go wide when blue and white light flickered over the elf's tattoos, "Maker, yes I understand. But please, I have to get him out."  
  
Well, this was just perfect. The first set of people who offered their help months previous, and one he's never met was going to kill him outright for being a bloody mage?  
  
Ugh, if he knew what he had in him...  
  
He waved them all on walking slowly into the Chantry. Maker, did he hate the Chantry with a passion looking at the bronze statues lining the place, the sickly sweet smell of incense making his nose twitch. All this money wasted when it could of been used else where. Justice hummed in agreement looking about as much. Vigil's Keep Chantry was nothing like this ostentatious building at all. And he enjoyed sitting in that quiet place reading his books.  
  
"When we find Karl, let me talk to him," Anders muttered over his shoulder, "He's not going to know who any of you are."  
  
"Fine by me, he's your 'Friend,'" Hawke smirked doing air quotes to him, "We'll keep an eye out for nasties."  
  
The dwarf snorted nudging Hawkes arm, the brother Carver just heaved a loud sigh shaking his head before he slapped his brothers arm hard. The white haired elf on the other hand, walked several paces away from them all, looking every inch of the place over then settled his eyes back on him again, glaring right into his core. Anders has never seen an elf that tall before,not even in the circle or the sodding Warden's were elves 'That' tall.  
  
'He has been touched by dark blood magic, Anders. That's lyrium etched within his skin,' Justice frowned inside him while they slowly walked up a set of steps, 'Why would someone do that to themselves?'  
  
'I don't know. Maybe he didn't?'  
  
Justice hummed again 'Perhaps,' then said, 'Anders,' he stops them dead in their tracks looking at the back of Karl's head, 'something is wrong.'  
  
"I knew you would come. You would never give up, Anders," his voice sounded dead, sounded hollow and empty. Anders fucking knew even before he turned around to face them: Karl was Tranquil.  
  
"Karl, no," he whimpered putting his hands out to his old lover, to his friend, his mentor, looking at the fresh Brand emblazoned on his forehead, "Maker, I'm so sorry."  
  
Karl tilted his head looking at him with eyes that were lifeless, "I was too rebellious. Like you. The Templars knew I had to be made an example of... they knew I had to be, contained."  
  
His stomach dropped to his boots looking at him, Justice felt a wave of grief and sorrow go right through him as well, looking at the mans blank dead face. Anders choked back a sob when Karl spoke again.  
  
"How else will mages master themselves? Master their desires? You'll understand, Anders. As soon as the Templars," the sound of armour clanking behind them made the bile rise up slowly in his mouth when it got closer, he could hear weapons being pulled free from both sides as Justice grew angrier inside him, "teach you to control yourself. This is the apostate."  
  
'NO!' Justice roared inside him, 'They betrayed EVERYTHING!'  
  
Anders shook profusely at the Templars surrounding them all, there was just so many of them standing there, sneering behind their helms. Their eyes narrowing behind their slits at him, at them. 'Justice,' he whispered to his friend, 'I can't do this.'  
  
'Then I will,' his friend growled through him pushing out through their skin, through their core with righteous fury. Anders dropped to the ground, his hands covering his face as Justice pushed through him more, his entire body felt alive with it when the blue raced over his body like lightening. He was no longer Anders when he stood, he was now Justice pointing at them all, judging each and every single Templar standing there.  
  
"You will NEVER take another mage as you took HIM!" the fade flowed through his hands forming a sword and shield, then roared charging at them all.  
  
"Holy fucking shit," they heard Hawke mutter behind them, sending out his own magic towards the Templars.  
  
Justice didn't care much right now, not when theres Templar murderers who needed judgement brought upon them all. His fade sword sliced through them with ease, but Anders was right, there were many coming in through to the Chantry floor below them. Even with all he was, there was no-way he could kill them all. Even the people with them, they were feeling far too outnumbered as more flooded in.  
  
This was more then a trap, when he swung out again, this was a slaughtering!  
  
"Garrett, what the actual fucking VOID!" Carver shouted bringing his two-handed sword down, "THIS ISN'T WHAT WHAT I SIGNED UP FOR!"  
  
"You didn't sign anything, you fucking tit. Makers breath, theres too many!"  
  
Justice felt grief go through him again when one sliced through his arm, getting past his shield when they sliced through his back. This was supposed to of been simple, this was supposed to of been a rescue, not this. Neither of them wanted to die like this. He shoved his sword in deep through the silverite armour, watching it melt slightly before pulling it back out, then looked over his shoulder at Karl just watching them in calm.  
  
'Justice, what are we going to do now?' Anders asked.  
  
He sighed looking forward again, putting everything single piece of his fade self into his weapons, 'Die with honour, thats what we will do.'  
  
Honour, Justice wanted to scoff at the notion. There was no honour here, there was only slaughter from these fiends. He flinched feeling something unusual come into the Chantry, something he has never felt before get closer. The fade snapped at him the closer it got. A fellow spirit perhaps aiding them? No, seems unlikely, he would of recognised the signs if it were one.  
  
Several Templars looked down at the floor below them, several sent out smites in that direction when screaming filtered up from there. The smell of the fade clung to his nose, the smell of fury, desire and confusion wrapped around him when he struck out again. It filled him, but yet...  
  
What came up the stairs was not what he expected at all. The creature that swung out with a great-sword made his jaw drop to the ground as he watched it. It was blooded, whatever it was, blooded and angry as pale purple raced through the great-sword, severing heads in a wide arch around itself. The feeling of righteousness and protection emanated from it, but yet...  
  
"Now what the fuck?" Hawke shouted stepping back as the creature came closer cutting more Templars down with ease.  
  
"A demon," the white haired elf spat, "That is a demon!"  
  
Justice shook his head, lowering his weapons when this creature plunged its hand into the last Templar, then pulled it back pulling the heart from within out in its hand. It looked at them all in shock, dropping everything to the ground, its lips parted looking at them putting its blooded hands out.  
  
Justice pulled back allowing Anders to come forth, but hovered near the edge when Karl spoke, making them all look over at the man.  
  
"Anders? What did you do? It was like you brought a piece of the fade with you, one I know."  
  
"I, we, um, have a unique circumstance," he mouth felt dry looking at his former lover, "Karl, what happened, how did they get you?"  
  
Karl opened his mouth as to say something then looked behind him, "Avvi! Oh sweet Maker," the creature ran up to him, putting its hands out looking him over, "Its alright, its alright. There was nothing you could do when I told you to run."  
  
"Karl," Anders looked between them both, "whats going on?"  
  
"They found a letter I was writing you, I've been trying for months. I asked for help from the fade, only to have Avvi come to me for help instead. Anders, I," Karl blinked rubbing his temples, "I don't have much time. I feel it fading."  
  
"Karl, no. Maker, I tried to get to you, I sent message after message, but-" Anders sucked in a shuddering breath, "Oh Karl. I'm so sorry."  
  
"Avvi, go with them. Theres nothing you can do for me any more. I won't live like this, I can't! Anders, kill me please," he friend begged him, grabbing his overcoat between his hands, "Maker please, just kill me. I won't live with no colours, no music, nothing."  
  
This Avvi shook its head as lips quivered, the muted sound of a 'No,' come from its mouth. Justice felt sorrow looking at it, no, not an it, a she. He felt sorrow and pain looking back at Karl gripping them both even more, the dullness coming back into his eyes. The monotone sound of his voice coming back when he asked, 'Why does he look at him like that?'  
  
Anders shook taking the dagger from his belt, he shook holding it tight in his hand while he held Karl's shoulder with the other. Avvi put hers around Karl's waist looking hurt, then closed her eyes when Anders drove the dagger in deep into his heart.  
  
The pained sound that came from the creatures lips just made tears pour down his face, letting the dagger and Karl go when she collapsed onto the floor with him in her arms. Her hands were trying to push the blood back into him, her own tears just streamed down her face when she looked up at them all, then down to Karl again.  
  
"Nnoo," she shook her head laying him down, "noo," she tried to push the blood back in again, "no."  
  
"I suggest we just kill that thing and be done with it," the white haired elf barked, "And kill him while your at it. I won't follow an abomination!"  
  
"Elf, nows not the time I think," the dwarf tugged on his arm to draw him away, "Let's just get out of here."  
  
Anders felt a hand go on his shoulder, then shrugged it off looking down at Karl and Avvi. The hand patted his back instead while they all just walked away leaving him standing there, leaving him feeling hollow that he couldn't get to Karl in time.  
  
He watched the being look about its self, then up at the banner. She nodded slowly standing grabbing hold of its base, then pulled it straight away from the ceiling. Anders frowned when he squatted next to her when she knelt back down. Then understood as she tried to lay it over Karl.  
  
He helped her, he pulled the banner over his now dead friend, crossing his arms over his stomach before wrapping it around his body.  
  
"Thank you," he murmured, wiping the tears from his face, "But we should leave before more come, see us here doing it. Okay."  
  
Avvi searched his eyes, blinking a few times before she nodded taking his hand. Justice sighed feeling the contact of the demon upon Anders skin, but she wasn't a demon at all, he had no idea what she was when they fled the Chantry. She looked like a Desire, but yet, she was not. He felt Valor go through him, Wisdom, Pride, Justice and Love. A Desire should not be any of those things at all.  
  
**********************  
  
Anders raised an eyebrow at Avvi as she looked about herself in awe, putting her hands out every time she went near something. She never touched, just put her hands out mapping it with her fingers before going to the next.  
  
Neither he, nor Justice, has ever seen anything like it from something like them. Neither spirit nor demon, but definitely a Desire by her tail and misshapen horns. Though her poor tail had a kink in it near the middle. She had no flaming purple hair either, no cloven feet and blackened fingers. Yeah, she had hair, but it was black over half her head when she looked back at him, pointing to the Elfroot.  
  
Avvi grinned at it the more she pointed, then went back to not touching anything around his clinic.  
  
How in the Makers arse did Karl find her?  
  
Her skin was almost lavender, tinges of pink went down her arms and face that looked almost like typical Desire markings, but they weren't formed properly at all. She was covered up, thankfully, her eyes were very pale purple almost translucent looking. She looked half-way between human and demon quite frankly, just not so seductive as a normal Desire, she was rather quite shapely for one.  
  
'She is broken,' Justice muttered mournfully looking her over as well, 'Something went wrong when she was created.'  
  
'Andraste's arse, you sure?'  
  
Justice nodded, 'Very. I don't think she is very old either. It can happen, its not rare when it does, Anders.'  
  
Avvi looked back at him pointing at a cot, then frowned at it looking down at her legs. Maker, of all the things to happen on the same bloody night as well. Anders shook his head picking up a washing cloth, wetting it under the freezing cold pump, then wrung it slightly warming the cloth with his magic.  
  
"You need to clean your skin, Avvi. I have to see what injuries you have before I can heal them, okay."  
  
She tilted her head at him looking at the wash cloth in his hand, then frowned slowly walking over with her hand out. She gingerly took it looking at them, "No."  
  
"No? No what?"  
  
Avvi frowned again looking at the cloth now, then to her arms, "No," she ran the cloth down them then over her face.  
  
'I don't think she knows many words, Anders.'  
  
"Avvi, is that all you can say?" he cocked his head when she looked at him, small droplets of water ran down her face, "How did Karl know your name? Did he give it to you?"  
  
"Avvi, yes," she grinned, "Karl friend," she nodded handing the cloth back, "Maaa- mmmaaagic," she grinned even more waving her hands about.  
  
Anders smiled throwing the cloth into the cleaning vat, "Karl was a friend to me a long time ago, Avvi. How did he find you?"  
  
She frowned looking down at her hands, then touched her misshapen horns with them, running her fingers over then to her face, her arms, everything, then sighed shaking her head, "Broken. Home."  
  
'I told you. Allow me to converse, Anders.'  
  
He let Justice push through him, feeling his skin crackle with the fade as he stood there crossing his arms over his chest, "Avvi, do you know what I am? Will you allow me to feel what you are, if you take my hand."  
  
She nodded putting her own hand out for him. He took it when he unfolded their arms and closed his eyes feeling through the contact, through the familiar tug of the fade within her. She was a mess. Justice wrinkled his nose up pushing more of his spirit self into it, seeking.  
  
Yes, there was Valor, but just briefly. There was Wisdom more then anything and the echos of Justice and Pride. Love was not something that touched her at all, it was from her own self. He pushed a little further, twining around what she should of been, then sighed letting everything snap back when he dropped her hand.  
  
"You were supposed to be a Desire, Avvi. But something has gone wrong," he tilted his head looking over her face, "It would seem you were created where the veil was weakened, then you were pulled through before you could form properly. You have been touched by many, this is why your confused to what you are."  
  
"Broken," she lowered her head, clutching her kinked tail in her hands.  
  
"How did you get here? Did Karl summon you?" he felt Anders blanch at the thought of his old friend summoning something like her.  
  
She shook her head mimicking the helmet of a Templar, putting it on her head with a snarled up face. She then put her hands out, little trickles of purple ran down her fingers when she clenched them, then thrusted them out.  
  
'Templar smite and cleanse, Justice. Makers breath, they pulled her through by accident!'  
  
"Why did you love, Avvi. Was it Karl?"  
  
She blinked a few times with confusion written on her face. She looked to one side as she thought, blinking even more before she nodded. Avvi clutched her tail again, "Karl, friend."  
  
"So you loved Karl as a friend, I understand. Anders is my friend also, he saved my life, Avvi. If it weren't for him, I don't know where I would be now. Unfortunately," he took her hand again in his making her drop her tail, "you will not be able to return home. You've been here far longer then there. I was created when the people of a long lost village asked for justice, I was formed to help them. That wasn't long ago either."  
  
"No home?"  
  
Justice slowly shook his head, "No home. This is home now. I can no longer go back to what I once was, because this is my home now. But, it seems unjust they left you as broken as you are, Avvi. They should of helped you not left you alone."  
  
She nodded then smiled pointing with her free hand at his face, "Home. Pre-pr-pretty!"  
  
"Pretty? You think I'm-" Justice sighed shaking his head, "Very well, I'm pretty if that is what you wish. I will let Anders come back to heal you, Avvi. Then we can all figure a way to help you."

* * *

 

 

**Three - A spoon full of blood magic...**  
  
Avvi stood by the tall window looking out of it, watching white things move slowly over the blue. Clouds, that was it, Anders had told her they were clouds, and that was the sky. She didn't quite exactly know how long she stood there watching them, until the door to this place opened making her jump.  
  
She ran to hide behind the piece of cloth that hung down in Anders room as people walked through the doors. He was busy crushing the pretty Elfroot on a table, which she wasn't happy about.What did that ever do to him with the way he smashed it all together? Avvi wrinkled her nose up, peaking around the cloth watching the people talk to Anders.  
  
"Sooo, Anders, can you help me with something?" she knows that one from when Karl was lain to rest. Hawke, that was it when she narrowed her eyes at him.  
  
"I don't know, can I?"  
  
Hawke rolled his eyes at Anders, "Maybe. We did kinda help you with the Chantry, so you owe me," he grinned.  
  
"Oh for fucks sake, Garrett. Really? Makers breath," the one that looked similar to Hawke slapped his arm, then pushed him out the way to talk to Anders, "Ignore him, he's being an arse as usual. We kinda need a healer to come to Sundermount with us, we gotta hand over some amulet to Dalish up there, which he," the man thumbed, "hasn't fucking done yet."  
  
Avvi cocked her head watching them all talk, but there was someone else there that couldn't be seen by any of them. She could though when it went through Anders things, pulling open draws and cupboard doors quietly.  
  
She pulled the cloth away narrowing her eyes at the unseen thing, watching its every movements, tilting her head this way and that walking over to the thing. Avvi grabbed the hand that went to take the small leather pouch to hide it, "No."  
  
"Bloody void!" the voice squeaked dropping the leather pouch onto the floor, "What the- Hawke, who's that?"  
  
"Izzy, seriously. Your thieving now? Ugh, just, let her go demon, she's not going to steal anything, I don't think."  
  
The unseen thing appeared with Avvi still hold its hand in hers, then smiled at the woman there. Her skin was dark, so were her eyes, her lips the colour of blood. Gold glinted around her neck, her nose, lips and ears when Avvi grinned wide letting her go. She had a rather large bust as well when Avvi tilted her head to look, nice long boots, tattoos, not much clothing-  
  
She chuckled when the woman raised an eyebrow, putting a hand on her hip when she grinned back, "Well, for a demon, your rather pretty aren't you. And such a cute kinky tail too. Look at it, Hawke, look at the kinky thing!"  
  
"Pretty," Avvi waved a hand at the whole of her, then pointed to the gold glinting in her face, "Like."  
  
"So you like me, sweetthing? Or just the shinies?"  
  
Avvi frowned pointing to the gold again, "Shi-shin-shinies," she wrinkled her nose up grinning again waving a hand over the dusky skinned woman once more, "Pretty."  
  
"HAH! She likes the shinies Isabela," Hawke snorted, "Think you lucked out there."  
  
"Poo. Eh, she waved a hand at all of me," this Isabela winked at her before she sauntered away, her hips swinging slightly, "I might get lucky later, sweetthing."  
  
Anders, when she looked, had a huge angry face looking at this Isabela, his fingers twitching against his pants, "Why the fuck did I ever sleep with you years ago, I'll never know. Ugh, fine, I'll come to Sundermount if Avvi comes with too. I'm not leaving her here on her own. She needs to get out anyway, guess I do too."  
  
"YES!" Hawke punched the air, then winced when the similar one hit him again, "Fucks sake. You do know I'm the older brother not you, right?"  
  
"Then bloody act like one. Meet in the Hanged Man in an hour."  
  
Isabela blew her a kiss before she left, Hawke and the other one just argued on the way out. Avvi shrugged looking at Anders, who just rolled his eyes going back to smashing the poor Elfroot again.  
  
**********************  
  
Clothes, were still an oddity for her. She fidgeted around in her vest, pulling it away from her bust when it clung against them. Even the pants she wore felt odd. Not like she didn't wear clothes when Karl managed to procure some for her, but still, they felt odd against her skin. She was sort of nude when she first met him, but thats how she was supposed to be, she thinks.  
  
Avvi looked down at the boots on her feet walking through the milling about things. No, mortals, thats what Justice told her they were. She wasn't allowed to call them things, because they might not like it. Karl found it funny when she called him Karl thing. She misses him.  
  
She knows Anders misses him too when she caught him crying reading the words on paper. He told her that it had only been a month it happened, but grief can last a long time. Avvi nodded in understanding, wrapping her arms around his shoulders in comfort. She knows grief, but she doesn't exactly know where from though.  
  
"Avvi, what are you doing now?" Anders smirked in amusement when she pulled at the vest again.  
  
"No."  
  
He laughed again, putting her hands on either side of her when she went to pluck it again, "I know you don't like them, but your going to have to wear them for now. Shit, even Justice had to wear clothes you know. Do you know how much of a fuss he made when he first tried them?"  
  
"Lots?" she snickered clutching her tail.  
  
"Yeah, lots. He wanted his armour back on when he had to wear normal clothes."  
  
Avvi wrinkled her nose up as she grinned, reaching behind her to the great-sword on her back with her tail still in her hand, "Shinie pretty, lots."  
  
Anders sighed through his nose, putting his hand on her shoulder pushing her through the milling mortals to a door, "I'm going to teach you more words then pretty, Avvi. People might get the wrong idea."  
  
The smell that came through the door made her grimace. It smelt really bad when he pushed her through more milling mortals. Mugs were in their hands when they drank, some stared right at her trying to back away. She frowned looking at them staring at her, she didn't like it as usual when she sped her pace up past them all, following Anders up some steps to another door.  
  
She could hear them muttering behind her that they knew what she was, a demon, and a word she's never heard of before, Qunari. She didn't know what that was when she walked through the door.  
  
The short one with no fade dipped his head at them both. Hawke and the similar both waved them to sit somewhere. But it was the one with the white hair that glared at them both, the one with the broken song in him curling his lip up when Anders sat next to Hawke. She just stood there, blinking at him when he rose from his seat, the broken song getting louder.  
  
"Why is that thing still alive?"  
  
"Fenris, she's fine," Hawke just picked up his mug and drank from it while the elf stood there heaving at her.  
  
"It is a demon," he said out slowly as white and blue went through his tattoos, "It is a filthy demon."  
  
Her mouth parted when he flew at her in anger, she ducked out the way when he tried to grab her, letting the fade flicker down her fingers when everyone in the room shouted at him to stop.  
  
This Fenris drew back his hand when she backed herself against the wall, her sword cut into her tail making her yelp at it. She put her own hand up when he went to go for the center of her chest to block him. He yelped instead backing away.  
  
"Venhedis, how did you do that?" he blinked shaking his arm.  
  
Avvi cocked her head lowering her hand out the way looking at him, she looked at her own arm as well, "No. Bad."  
  
Fenris raised both his black eyebrow's, his very pretty green eyes widen slightly tentatively putting a finger out to touch her skin. He withdrew it as if he were burned before running out the room away from them all. Avvi frowned after him putting her hand out the hear the song again, but it was gone.  
  
"Um, okay then," Hawke sat back down, "Well, yeah so anyway, we'll go when I'm finished," he grinned picking the mug back up.  
  
"Garrett... you know what, never mind. Magey, you gonna tell us what the fuck you did in the Chantry now?"  
  
Anders sighed motioning for Avvi to sit down, "So, I may have the spirit of Justice in me. We, joined when I was back in the Wardens. Was the only way to save his life and mine."  
  
"Huh, sooo, Fenris was right. Your an abomination?" Hawke narrowed his eyes behind his mug, "Dad kinda taught us that shit, but you do know your not meant to take them in, right?"  
  
"I bloody know that," Anders snapped, "Circle mage, remember. Ugh, spirit healer too, remember. Andraste's arse, I couldn't leave him wandering around could I?"  
  
The none fade short one pulled the glassed things down his nose, "Blondie, give us more details then, 'Wandering around.' Kinda sounds like you found a lost kitten and brought it home."  
  
Avvi snorted looking at the short one, "Kitten."  
  
"Yeah Twinks, a kitten. You know what they are, right?" he asked her.  
  
She nodded doing pointy ears at the top of her head, then whiskers moving her tail too, "Kitten."  
  
"See, she knows. But anyway," Anders waved his hand about, "He was trapped inside a dead man called Kristoff when he got pulled here. Poor bastard didn't ask for that shit. The body started to rot away over time, so I made the decision to take him instead, simple as that."  
  
"So he's what now. A spirit lover?" Hawke smirked leaning on the table, "Why didn't you tell us when we met, Anders."  
  
Her friends shrugged, "Because you lot would of walked away if you knew. You needed the maps, I needed help six months later."  
  
"Maybe. But would of been nice to of been told first you know. Eh, don't matter now," Hawke grinned leaning forward more, "Still didn't answer whether he's a lover or not. Kinda hot if he is you know."  
  
"GARRETT! Makers fucking breath, stop flirting you- you- Shit, you sure we're brothers? I feel like I'm adopted half the fucking time."  
  
Hawke rolled his eyes nudging the similar, "Carver, its a perfectly simple question. A question I'm dying to know the answer too, from the very handsome man," he winked at her friend.  
  
Avvi slyly looked at Anders, she saw the slight pink in his cheeks when he coughed behind his hand. She then slyly looked back at Hawke, smirking, "Oh... bad."  
  
"Its, um, its, we're, er- Maker, I should check a looking glass more often," he mumbled still trying to hide the blush, "Can we, can we go now?"  
  
"Heh, she gets me," Hawke winked at her now, "Alrighty then, lets go play nice with the angry Dalish folk."  
  
They all left the short ones room, he elected to stay behind. 'More important things to do,' she heard him mumble when the door shut. Anders nudged her shoulder with a slight smile on his face, subtly putting healing into the cut on her tail. She knew what he was thinking, it was pretty strong even to her. He, really liked Hawke. She could also feel Justice behind it all, a little perplexed over the feeling. But she knew when he sent back, 'Not now.'  
  
Avvi nudged him back, winking, when they left the smelly place. The white haired Fenris was waiting outside leaning against the wall opposite. He bowed his head when he joined them going back through the milling people, but she could hear the broken song again making her smile at it. Was like home, but yet it wasn't. It was broken and dirty, sort of like how she is.  
  
She looked about herself again, plucking the clinging vest humming under her breath. Different smells assaulted her as usual, smells that weren't entirely unpleasant at all. One most of all peaked her interest when they walked past a stall, Anders had to tell her what they were the first time they walked this place. Little round green things sat with other things in odd shapes.  
  
One was curved and yellow, she wrinkled her nose up at that when she stopped to look. Another was orange and round. But it was the green ones that smelt wonderful when she picked one up to smell it.  
  
"That is an apple."  
  
Avvi almost dropped the thing on the ground when Fenris looked over them as well, "App-apple?"  
  
"Yes, an apple. I like-" he shook his head backing away, "Fasta Vass, why am I talking to you, demon."  
  
He walked away from her, grumbling under his breath pushing past people. She looked down at the apple, wondering exactly what to do with it. Anders tapped her shoulder handing over the round things called coins, buying several then pushed her on the shoulder to move again.  
  
Avvi frowned holding the apple in her hand, she can hear these mortals behind her talking about her, some, she noted, were pointing fingers gasping. Once again, she didn't like it. She didn't like all these mortals looking at her like that. Some were even looking at her with lust. She didn't like that either. She could feel the emotions from them all, it was very strong indeed.  
  
**********************  
  
There were just so many different smells, so many different things to see. She wanted to see them all walking through this, 'camp'. These Dalish weren't very impressed with Hawke when  
he made a crude joke about how delightful they were, and bringing them all home for tea. The Carver one smacked the back of his head, telling him to shut up.  
  
But there was something foul nearby, something that made her feel a little nervous slowly walking up a slope the older elf mortal pointed them towards. A foulness she didn't like at all the closer they got.  
  
The sound of dark humming trickled through her like water down the walls, it trickled and pricked at her the nearer they moved to the small elf squatting on the ground. The small elf jumped hearing them all, shoving something shiny into her pocket grinning wide doing so. Avvi slowly backed away, putting the small one between her and Anders when she hid behind him.  
  
"Oh I didn't hear. Andaran atish’an," she dipped her head then blinked, "Oh dear, I, I forgot to introduce myself first. I'm Merrill."  
  
Avvi peaked around her friend clutching the back of his coat, her tail swished about in agitation wrinkling her nose up at this Merrill. Something wasn't right here the more this small elf spoke.  
  
"What are you doing?" Anders narrowed his eyes over his shoulder at her, "If your feeling the same thing as Justice, we already know."  
  
"And whats that, mage?"  
  
Avvi side-eyed Fenris, "Bad. No like," she looked around her friend again shaking her head.  
  
"And whats THAT supposed to mean, demon?" he narrowed his own eyes up at her when the Merrill one waved them on wards, "I'm doing it again," he threw his hands up in the air side-stepping them both to travel with Hawke and his brother instead.  
  
She didn't like any of this at all when more darkness tried to sink deep into her. Beckoning her, calling her. But she pushed it all aside trying to listen to Merrill babbling away waving her hands about happily. She was another mage, which pleased Fenris no end when he backed off from her, practically walking with her instead. But the darkness overshadowed the broken song in him the more they traversed this slope.  
  
Avvi shook her head again, her fingers twitching against her pants, "No like this," she mumbled under her breath.  
  
"Demon, if you don't start making sense soon."  
  
She pointed at Merrill wrinkling her nose up at him, "No. Like!" she then waved her hands around them, "Bad. Not pretty. Dark."  
  
The white haired elf furrowed his brow looking at the other elf, he tilted his head letting his tattoos flicker down his arms, "We shall see, won't we."  
  
A new thing tugged at her when they stopped before something that glowed. She squinted looking it over, Merrill smiled telling them they have to get past it, that she can take it down. She then pulled a dagger from her belt and sliced through her wrist, blood poured out from the wound, swirling around her hands before she sent it at the glowing thing, breaking it.  
  
Avvi gasped backing away from her, the dark wave of magic sunk even deeper into her core. She felt like her insides were going to come out of her mouth when the small elf just smiled, clamping her wrist with her other hand.  
  
"That was blood magic!" Hawke backed away too, pulling his brother back with him.  
  
"Foolish," Fenris spat, "How very foolish. Why am I not surprised a mage has turned to blood magic at all."  
  
"Its no different then any other magic. Its a tool," Merrill shrugged.  
  
Hawke shook his head backing away again, "Yeah, right up until a demon takes over your mind, then eats everyone. Oh, sorry Avvi, no offense."  
  
"Demons are no different then Honour of Joy. Like her," Merrill grinned pointing right at Avvi, "Hello, I'm Merrill. Your very different for a Desire."  
  
Avvi dipped her head, narrowing her eyes as she growled through her teeth, reaching behind her for her sword, "Bad magic. No same friend. No same other."  
  
Merrill's eyes go wide when she stalked forward, the great-sword now in her hands, "I, I, I- oh dear. Um, a little help?"  
  
"Avvi, we need her," Anders pulled her back, "Even if she is a fool. Makers breath, how fucking stupid can you be! You know NOTHING about spirits, trust me on that."  
  
Avvi kept her eyes narrowed on the blood mage, keeping well away from her with the sword still held firmly in her hands. She didn't like that this one had bound itself to something very old, something very dark while they walked towards some large stone thing. She didn't like it at all. Avvi knows there is only a difference if they pervert their own ideals, but this one was foolish binding itself to an ancient one.  
  
She could feel the emotions of everyone around her, they were NOT happy having to deal with the blood mage at all. She could feel Justice's disappointment in Merrill, she could of been a friend, but now, she felt Justice pull back when the elf started to chant.  
  
Something even older emerged from the amulet on the stone thing, much much older when it smiled wide at them with yellow eyes. Avvi bowed her head in respect at the being, not wanting to look at one such as her. She felt Justice do the same, both of them stepping back a few paces to give the being space.  
  
She listened to what the being was said, but it wasn't for her ears at all. Until she turned her gaze upon her.  
  
"A fledgling back in this world?" the being smile parting her arms wide, "Oh, theres going to be much for you to relearn, child. Much indeed. Matters not who you once were, matters only what you do with it now your here. Much like that one," she points at Anders and Justice as she laughed, "Oh, how delicious this all is."  
  
Avvi nodded her head lowering her gaze once more when the being spoke to Hawke and his brother. She didn't quite know what the being meant that she was back here. But whatever that meant, she didn't want to ask when the being turned into a dragon and flew away from them all.


	3. New life, new rules: The Broken Ones (Part two)

**Four - Fenris is confused.**  
  
"Go away, demon," he slammed his door shut in its face, then lent his back against it.  
  
Fasta Vass, why did it want to see him? Why was it here to begin with? He shook his head pushing away from the pealing wood door to his room. Bad enough, when he touched the thing the few weeks previous, that his markings stopped hurting for a while. Bad enough he kept speaking to it by accident.  
  
Bah, he wanted NOTHING to do with it, nor the abomination, even if the mage healed him in the Wounded Coast when Tal-Vashoth attacked them. Fenris rolled his eyes slamming his rooms door shut. Hawke insisted they help the Qunari, of course the man did, now they were all indebted to the Arishok. He sighed sitting in-front of the empty and cold fire, staring into the unlit hearth while he thought about everything.  
  
Five months he's known Hawke and his brother, five months he agreed to come along to the Deep Roads when they go. He felt indebted to the mage for helping him, but there was no reason for him to feel that way at all. He felt nothing but anger at Anders, allowing to become possessed by a so called spirit, he felt anger for the little blood mage girl. But... but, the way the demon acted when it saw what Merrill did, surprised him.  
  
It, was going to kill the blood mage until Anders stopped it from doing so. And it stopped his markings from hurting by accident. Not like Hawke or Anders magic when it touched his skin, it hurt feeling the magic tug at his markings, but the demon...  
  
Fenris slumped down in his chair, running his hands down his face in confusion.  
  
It was a demon, but yet looked mostly human. The witch on Sundermount said it was reborn. Are things like that reborn? Remade? Danarius took great pleasure in using anything from the fade for his filth of magic. Even took pleasure in Fenris when the Magister wanted, which was all the time.  
  
Ugh, he wished he killed the man now when he had a chance, now all he could do was wait until the Magister came to him instead.  
  
The knock on the front door made him growl under his breath, pushing out from his seat to tell the demon to go away again. He bounded down the stairs when it knocked again, then flung the door wide open staring at it.  
  
"I said go away demon. Why are you persisting in this?"  
  
It put out its hand, a shiny green apple was held within when it dipped its head at him, "Want give apple."  
  
Fenris blinked a few times, then slapped it out of the things hand, "Enough! I want NOTHING from you. Stop trying to tempt me."  
  
"Bu-but apple," it backed away slowly with both hands out as its lip quivered, "want give you."  
  
"I don't want anything from you. Now go away," he went to slam the door again when Hawke just came around the corner to glare at him, "What are you doing here?"  
  
The man folded his arms over his chest, shaking his tied back black haired head at him, his blue eyes narrowing, "She wanted to bloody well give that to you, Fenris. Makers breath, I came to see if you wanted to come to the Hanged Man to talk Deep Roads. And find your being plain rude!"  
  
"Its a demon Hawke, I don't want anything from it," he snapped, "Venhedis, why you keep it around like a pet, I'll never know."  
  
"A pet! Thats a bit low ain't it? Ugh, just get your cute lyrium arse down to the pub so we can all talk."  
  
CUTE! Fenris wanted to roar at the man he wasn't cute at all. He was a monster, a twisted weapon broken thing of a monster! He slammed the door shut again on them both. He'll go down there when he's ready. Which wasn't right now as he stood in the foyer looking at the decaying bodies of former slavers. He slumped his shoulders kicking away at nothing.  
  
"Kaffas. Why me?"  
  
**********************  
  
He slunk into Varric's room like a dog with a tail between his legs an hour later. Everyone was sitting around the stone table waiting for him, apparently. Aveline dipped her head at him when he sat next to her, right opposite the bloody demon too. It was sitting next to Anders as usual, Varric next to it at the head of the table.  
  
Hawke rolled his eyes, the winced when his brother clouted him on the back of the head, "Okay, okay, I'm getting to it. Bloody nora."  
  
Fenris cleared his throat, taking the mug of really Kaffas ale that was placed in-front of him, "I am guessing that the money has been raised to go to the Deep Roads, finally?"  
  
"Yeah it has. I got you lot together to see who wants to come. No way in the void will it just be me, Carver and Varric going on our lonesome down there," Hawke smirked leaning on the table looking at them all.  
  
"Unfortunately, you know full well I can't leave my post, Hawke," Aveline sat back in her chair, "Besides, I have a city to clean up after Jeven."  
  
"Oh, oh, oh, can I come? Whats the Deep Roads though?"  
  
Fenris slammed his face onto the table at Merrill, then banged his head slightly on it when Anders had to explain to her what it was. And that was a blood mage? How in the void did someone like her, bind herself to a demon without the thing dying from her stupidity?  
  
"No, I don't want to come. I changed my mind."  
  
"Me either sweetthing's. Mama Bel has better things to do then traipse around in the dark. Well, that dark anyway," Isabela cackled then stopped, "Seriously though, I really do have better things to... do."  
  
"In other words, your going to be whoring yourself out as usual. And then get thrown into my jail for thieving," Aveline pushed her finger into the table.  
  
Isabela smirked at the other woman, "Too bloody right, big girl. You know you'd miss me if I wasn't in your dark, deep, tight little cell."  
  
Fenris snorted drinking down the ale as Aveline went bright red. Hawke barked a loud laugh, slapping Carvers arm nearly sending him out the chair. His brother pushed him out of his own on to floor instead, "I swear, Garrett. I bleedin' swear on mum!"  
  
"Hey, thats unfair. I'm telling on you for swearing on her."  
  
There may of only been a two years separating them, but Carver really did act like the older brother more then Hawke did with his joviality. But, then again, they were very close when Carver helped him up off the floor, blushing the not there dirt from Hawkes clothes.  
  
Fenris shrugged putting his hand up, "I will go with you. Not like I have anything better to do."  
  
Then, Anders agree to go, of course he did, just so he could be with Hawke. He wasn't blind to the budding attraction between them both. It was blatantly obvious from the first time he saw them together. And the fact Hawke mentioned he liked a really cute tall blond, more then once when they first met too. Fenris wasn't interested in another mage at all, even if Hawke was rather a buff man himself, for a mage.  
  
"I go?" he slumped in his seat when the demon asked to come along as well, "Want go."  
  
"Sure. More the merrier. Could use your awesome fade shit, Avvi," Hawke grinned, then winked at it, "Never did say thanks for the spider killing in the Bone Pit."  
  
"You never say thanks for anything, Hawke. Just, up and do it without a thought in the world. Never mind the rest of us trying to pick up when your disaster self just wanders off."  
  
Fenris snorted again into his mug at Aveline, she wasn't wrong there. The man did leave a bit of a trail of disaster behind him, never once thinking to say thanks or sorry.  
  
"I should take offense to that," Hawke rankled flicking his hair out the way, "But I won't. ANYWAY," he waved a hand at them all, "We leave next month. Me and Varric's already paid his obnoxious brother, no offense, so get your shit together and lets make some money!"  
  
The table whirled into conversations, drinking and eating. Fenris no longer felt like talking when he picked up his second Kaffas ale, looking at the very sorry dingy foam trying to bubble back down. He didn't have much to take with him at any rate, and what coin he made, he stashed away in-case he needed to leave in a hurry. But it was the thought of going down there with the demon that both confused and niggled him something rotten.  
  
What if it turned on them all? What if that mage lost control of his so called spirit and killed them all leaving them there to rot? What if he took the apple instead of being rude to her?  
  
He blanched at himself even thinking about that one. Why did he even think that? He would never of taken the beautifully green, shiny, apple from the thing. Even if it did look delicious. And there he goes again. Whats wrong with him?  
  
Fenris slowly looked up at the demon from under his fringe, the thing was busy pointing at a book the dwarf slid over to it. He looked over its face, its misshapen horns, the pale pink markings going over her face and arms. The half black long hair over her head that skimmed her left shoulder, wondering what that felt like. He then lowered his eyes to her cleavage that was slightly exposed, tracing the markings going down them too, wondering how far they went.  
  
He slammed a hand over his face, he was most certainly not looking at the thing in that way at all. No, he was not.  
  
"You alright there, Elf?"  
  
"Yes, I'm fine," he muttered still covering his eyes up so he didn't look, "I just have, um, ale in my eyes, yes that's it," he rose swiftly from his seat to the privy.  
  
Venhedis, whats wrong with him?  
  
**********************  
  
"Keep still, sweetthing. You keep squirming like that-"  
  
Fenris frowned at Isabela's voice in the mages clinic. He quirked an eyebrow slowly walking up the rickety steps to the place. He had to come down here, apparently, to apologise to the demon for his attitude. Pah, he stuck his middle finger up at Hawke before he slammed his door in the mans face.  
  
But yet, here he was, standing outside the mages clinic, about to apologise but all he hears is Isabela talking to someone within. Maybe she's talking to Anders.  
  
"Last one, then you can go clean up the mess," he heard her laugh, "Don't think I can help with the horns though, sweetthing."  
  
Horns? Fasta Vass, she was talking to the demon, of course she was. But, a little jealously went through him before he brushed the entire thing away for being stupid. Why in the name of Thedas was he jealous?  
  
Fenris waited in the shadows until the talking stopped, trying with all his might not to hear a thing from within, trying all his might to push the ridiculous feelings he had bubbling up inside him. He was now more confused then ever, shuffling on his feet while he waited. He didn't need feelings, they were idiotic to have. They just made everything hurt anyway, he didn't need them at all.  
  
Isabela blew a kiss back into the clinic when she left, then vanished into the shadows as usual. He sucked in his breath, standing up straight and determined to make this short and sweet.  
  
He pushed the partially closed door open, looking around before he stepped inside. And there it was, standing in-front of a broken mirror looking into it. Fenris strode into the room, but it didn't turn around to face him at all. Well, that was rude when he coughed loudly, but still, it didn't turn around, just, kept looking into the mirror.  
  
"Demon," he sighed rolling his shoulders, "I have been informed that I was rude and to say sorry. So, there you are. Sorry."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Oh? OH? Whats the supposed to mean? "I said sorry. Your supposed to say something back so I can leave."  
  
It turned around to face him, his eyes widen slightly at the little silver glints in its ears, its nose, even had a silver chain hanging from one misshapen horn. Fenris blinked a few times as to try and say something, then clamped his mouth shut tight just so he wouldn't say a thing at all.  
  
"Is pretty. I like," it smiled at him going back to looking in the mirror, then ran a hand over a horn, "No like them."  
  
"Your a demon, your supposed to have horns," he shook his head then frowned when the tail swished about in agitation, "Now what are you angry about?"  
  
"I no like horn. Broken, all me broken. No why I broken."  
  
He stepped back a few paces. It thought it was broken? True, it looked like nothing any of the Desires Danarius summoned, used, then killed. It looked nothing like any other demon he's come to know so well. It, she, was almost human in her appearance, her tail was smooth and kinked right in the middle unlike other Desires.  
  
"I know what its like to be broken, demon. I know what its like to be a monster to be feared," Fenris looked into the mirror as well, running a gauntleted finger down his throat, over his markings to the top of his armour, "My former master did this to me, he made me into what I am."  
  
And there he goes, once again, talking about his past to the one thing he really didn't want to talk to at all. Bad enough he told Hawke about most of his past, but not all, but enough that the man agreed to help him kill Danarius when the time came.  
  
"You no broken. You pretty," she grinned at him through the mirror, "Song like home," she waved her hands over him in the mirror, then sighed, "No can go home."  
  
Pretty? He didn't see himself as pretty, or cute, or adorable, nothing like that at all. Song though?  
  
"What do you mean by song, demon?"  
  
She turned around to face him fully, then pointed to the lyrium etched into his skin, "Song, like home. Broken song, dark magic in. No like dark magic, hurt, wrong."  
  
"Kaffas, you feel that! Is that why you wanted to kill Merrill because of her stupidity?" he already knew the answer when she nodded. But the fact she could feel what Danarius did to him as well... "He used me for his magic. Treated me like filth constantly even though I was his prized slave. Demon, when I, when you," he swallowed deeply trying to form the words in his mouth "when I briefly touched you, they stopped hurting. Why is that?"  
  
She shook her head looking confused as much as he was, then shrugged putting her hand put, tracing the lines from his lip down his throat, "I no like dark magic. Hurt me, wrong. Make feel, feel, be-bee-better," she dipped her head at him.  
  
Now he was even more confused then he was before looking over her face, her exceptionally pale purple eyes. He felt like he towered over her when he tilted his head to one side, he was never exactly short for an elf anyway, would tower well above them all and some humans. The only one taller then him was Anders, but that was only by a few inches.  
  
"I do not understand. Make me feel better, or you?" he asked still tracing his eyes over her face, feeling the side of his lips quirk upward, then wiped it away as quickly.  
  
"You, make you feel better. I, I," she frowned again lowering her arms, "want help. No, I want help you, yes."  
  
Fenris blinked a few times, thinking. Should he say yes? No, no he shouldn't, she was a demon probably trying to tempt him somehow. Lure him into a false security so he lowered his guard before it pounced. But something niggled him again about the whole thing. It did that from the moment in the Chantry when she ran up the steps, when she plunged her hand within the body of a Templar, like what he can do.  
  
He backed away from her shaking his head. He couldn't do this, couldn't allow the demon to help him at all. No, he backed away even more, he won't. He can't.  
  
"Leave me alone, demon," he lowered his head backing away even more, "Stop trying to tempt me. I will not allow it."  
  
Fenris ran away from the clinic, from the demon behind him. He didn't need anything from anyone at all. Let alone something like that. Let alone the ridiculous niggling feeling he had trying to bubble up inside him. No, he won't allow that, nor anyone else get under his skin ever again. Feelings were unimportant, regardless how he felt.  
  
**********************  
  
He stepped back looking over his armour, wrinkling his nose up at the entire thing. Venhedis, why did he still wear any of that? They only brought painful memories to the forefront, when he needs to push that all away.  
  
He didn't need more reminders of his old life then more he stares at it. At the black tunic and leggings, at the silverite platings and gauntlets. Fenris skimmed his eyes to Lethendralis, his most prized possession, besides himself of course. He needed new armour when he looked back at the stand. He needed something that meant more to him then the filth Danarius bestowed upon him, forced him to wear.  
  
Bah, he needed a lot of things, but armour was more important then trivial fancies. And the Deep Roads Expedition was approaching fast. Yes, today, he will delve into his coin stash and buy new armour. THAT, he can do.  
  
Fenris ran a hand through his hair, sighing. Perhaps he should get that trimmed as well, the fringe was flopping about in his eyes as it was. Yes, he'll do that too.  
  
But he still stood there unmoving looking over everything in the room he made his own. He stood there side-eyeing out into the hallway, the stairwell, listening, waiting, hoping to everything that someone just knocks on the door so he could answer it.  
  
He felt like a mess when he slumped to the floor. He had no idea what to do any more, he didn't want to feel, he didn't want to have painful memories etched in him as much as the lyrium, he just wanted... something.  
  
He hates being alone, but he did this to himself three years ago. He hated the fact he felt anything at all. Fenris didn't need feelings, he didn't need anything, but yet here he was, kneeling on the floor with his hands covering his face. Kaffas, he needed to snap out of this and do what he's supposed to do, when he needs to do it and this was getting him no-where feeling sorry for himself.  
  
He made himself stand upright to his full height, made himself walk over to his money stash taking several pouches from within, then made his way out of the ruined mansion. The sun shone bright above, the heat warmed his dusky skin while he walked past the Hightown markets. They all looked at him here with disgust at any rate, why would he waste his coin on these people who look at him no more then dirt beneath their shoes?  
  
Fenris flicked his fringe out the way strolling past scoffing nobles, ignoring them completely going to the Lowtown steps. He didn't need any of that right now, he had better things to do then listen to nobles call him Knife-ear or worse, Servant.  
  
Fasta Vass, he towered of those ignorant people up there, he could kill them all if he so wished. But he didn't. Not to day at least.  
  
The armourer and leather maker were next to each other, which would make this whole thing that much easier. So, he placed his orders with both at the same time. Giving both explicit instructions on what he needs, where he needs it, etcetera etcetera. He stepped back in satisfaction and turned on his heel to go to the Hanged Man, just to see if anyone was there, and to buy food.  
  
But he stopped in his tracks, one foot was lifted from the ground, staring at the demon at the fruit stall buying apples. Of course it was.  
  
When he looked down at its feet, they were bound as elves bind them, even its tail was bound down to the kink. Fenris back tracked a little, skirting around a corner to watch what the thing does. Perhaps he should alert a Templar about the demon, but he has yet to do that even with Anders and his so called spirit. He dipped his head, looking out from under his stupidly long fringe, then narrowed he eyes when the demon laughed at the stall holder.  
  
He could see humans and elves alike giving it a wide birth, dwarves, no so much. He could hear 'Demon' and 'Qunari,' being muttered around him. Some even whistled at it, which just made its tail swish in agitation over it.  
  
Did it not want that desire from people? He could clearly see it was uncomfortable about the whole situation, with the way its whole body tightened, the shoulders got tense before it walked away from them all going towards the Undercity.  
  
Fenris lent his back against the brick building, tilting his head up the blue sky above, the warm rays of the sun warming his skin again. The same odd niggling feeling went through him once more. The one he has no name even for. One that just confused the Kaffas out of him even more.

* * *

  
  
**Five - The Light Before The Deep Dark.**  
  
"Avvi!" Anders chastised when she wrinkled her nose up, "Was that really necessary?"  
  
"YES!" she flicked her tail out when she stomped off to pout.  
  
Andraste's knicker weasels, she was just like a bleedin' cat half the time, which was highly amusing to him when her tail flicked again. She hated wearing boots, which she flung about everywhere back in clinic, which just made Justice howl with laughter when she glared at them. So she bound them up instead. She bound her tail too, so the sword didn't nick it again.  
  
But it was the fact she just sassed Hawke of all people, making the mans mouth drop right into the Deep Roads, before he burst out laughing when she sat on the ground refusing to move.  
  
"Anders," Hawke snapped his fingers in his face, "There you are. Don't worry bout it alright. If she wants to mouth me off, I'm all for it," he winked as he smirked.  
  
"She just told you to fuck off, Hawke. She's never said that before," she really hasn't.  
  
The man just shrugged smirking even more, "Heard worse from Carv and dad. So, you know- Anyway, you got enough poultices to last us for the next few months, lyrium potions, everything?"  
  
Anders felt the rising blush go up his face again, nodding his head. He was acting like a teenager around Hawke, Maker, he couldn'tsodding help it with how attractive the other man was. Even Justice was, sort of, in his own way, growing attached to the other mage. His friend poked him, chuckling, 'There is nothing wrong with attraction, Anders. I'm attracted to you.'  
  
'Attached, Justice, your attached to me, not- never mind.'  
  
Justice heaved out a huff, poking him even more making Anders squirm slightly at it, 'No, attracted. I know the differences, Anders. Besides, I know about love and attraction from Kristoff and Aura, and the Commander with her love for the King. Just because what I am, doesn't mean I don't know what any of that is. You know that.'  
  
'Oh. But,' Anders frowned when Hawke slowly walked over to Avvi with his hands behind his back, 'if me and Hawke, you know... would you be alright with that at all?'  
  
Justice smiled wide inside him, filling him with a little bit of joy and acceptance, 'I would indeed. If he hurts you, neither I nor Avvi will be pleased. But as long as you allow me to remain, as long as I am there also, I see no reason not to.'  
  
Anders beamed back at him from within and on the outside looking at Hawke. The man was tugging on Avvi's hair braiding some of it around her left ear. Maker, he must of done that with his sister if Avvi allowed him to even do it. She must feel his pain as much as Justice could in loosing her during the Blight. And the fact he practically adopted Avvi by apparently teaching her swears. Makers breath.  
  
He shook his head looking over his full pack, his staff laying on-top of it with his Grey Warden blanket strapped underneath. He had almost everything ready for when they leave tomorrow as it was, just last minute things he needed to tie up and make. Anders quirked an eyebrow at Hawkes laughter, poking Avvi on her nose when she laughed back at him. He was just so surprised that the group, bar Fenris, accepted her so readily.  
  
Even Aveline of all people didn't seem to mind her one bit. But himself, Maker, was Aveline ever wary about him.  
  
BUT, he wasn't happy that Isabela pierced his friend, who was now braiding Hawkes hair while they talked. Neither of them run that by him. Anders blinked a few times, why was he feeling protective over Avvi, he knows Justice was too. He smiled to himself to the notion that both him and Justice were like big brothers to her, thats why.  
  
"Hey Hawke, if and when we find all this supposed treasure," Anders rested his hip on his table, "What do you plan to do with it all?"  
  
The man snorted waving a hand at him, "Buy that fucking mansion above you thats what. The cellar doors right there," he pointed past the clinic to the small door he's walked by hundreds of times now, "So all I would need to do, is fall down all those steps when I'm drunk, then bat my eyelashes at you to take the ouchies away."  
  
"Makers breath. I'm not your personal walking, talking, healing potion, Hawke!"  
  
"I dunno," the man shrugged grinning at him, "could be more then that, if you want."  
  
Anders insides flipped when he swallowed, the man was still grinning at him from the floor before he winked again, "Are you seriously, I mean seriously, saying you want more then just, friendship?"  
  
"No, I'm asking for a fucking puppy! Of course I am, thought I made that a bit obvious," Hawke poked Avvi's nose again while he stood, then tilted his head at him, "Yeah, alright, I'm not that obvious am I. But I am serious about it. Just," Hawke shook his head walking slowly over to him, "never really had much of a chance with someone, you know. Mage an all, moving around a lot. I know its only been a few months we've known each other and-"  
  
"He want fuck," Avvi snickered laying flat out on the floor now, "and love. That good. Need love, need fuck too! Be happy."  
  
Hawkes face went bright red with his mouth parting slightly, Anders couldn't help but laugh at it before he brought the man into a crushing hug. Justice squirmed inside him again, wrapping his own arms around them both.  
  
Well, either this was going to be a complete disaster with the two of them, or one of the best things thats ever going to happen to him. And Maker take him, he wants this shit to last.  
  
**********************  
  
Fenris strode through everyone keeping his head held high, his very light pack held firmly in his hand going towards the Merchants Guild. He was NOT looking forward to this at all. He'll be the first to admit it, even though he said he was coming. But the thought of being underground for the next few months, bah, he was not looking forward to it.  
  
"ELF! Maferaths balls, didn't think you'd be coming."  
  
Fenris dipped his head briefly at Varric gripping his pack even tighter, then said deadpanning "Yes, I wouldn't miss this whole thing for the world, dwarf."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Varric snorted, flapping his hand up at him, "Brood all you want. We're just waitin' on my arsehole of a brother to pull his thumb out. Leandra already ran up here begging for Hawke not to take Junior, so you missed all that lovely family squabbling while you brooded."  
  
Fenris rolled his eyes, shaking his head, "I don't brood. I just contemplate on the best way to kill someone."  
  
"Uh huh. 'Don't brood' the Elf says. Just run around half naked right now," the dwarf raised an eyebrow at him, motioning with his hand over his new armour, "What happened to the spiky black angsty armour? And your hair! Shit, Elf, your making this dwarf feel weird just looking at you."  
  
"I needed a change. Thats all I'm saying about it."  
  
Varric walked away shaking his head, "Change? I change my smalls, thats a change, Elf. What you've done it completely different. More like," the dwarf smirked over his shoulder at him, "your trying to impress someone, thats what."  
  
Fenris put up one finger, thinning his mouth before dropping it back to his side. He knows EXACTLY what the dwarf was doing, and he wasn't going to get ANYTHING from him right now. None of them were when he held his head high again striding his long legs over to Hawke and his brother.  
  
Anders was grinning wide at him the closer he got, which he ignored until the mage stood in-front of him grinning like the fool mage he was.  
  
"Love the new look, Fen. Suits you I think."  
  
"Mage, be quiet. I have no desire to even talk to you right now," he ground his teeth a little when the mage grinned even more, "Stop it."  
  
"Stop what? I just think you look better then you did in the angry porcupine shit you wore," Anders shrugged turning away, "Suits you. The extra knives are a nice touch too, by the way."  
  
The pack shook hard in his hand the more he gripped it. He did NOT have this armour specially made for them all to gawk at him, gawk like he was a prized slave again. No, no, reel it in, their not doing that, accept the compliment and move along. His shoulders slumped a little now chewing on his bottom lip, trying his hardest not to look about himself while being composed.  
  
The demon wasn't here. He wondered where she was when he tilted his head around Anders, then back around the other side of Hawke. Maybe she decided not to come after all, maybe the mage talked her out of it. Why was he feeling disappointed? Kaffas, he was acting the fool even thinking about the demon.  
  
A dwarf that looked like a bearded Varric flapped both his arms about at them all, then barked they needed to move now as he came out from the Merchants Guild. Carts started to roll on by, workers and merc guards walked in-between them when they all set off. Fenris put his pack on one shoulder keeping behind everyone, watching them all to make sure none would do something they shouldn't.  
  
"Hello."  
  
He nearly fell over at the voice next to him when he looked. The demon smiled around an apple in her mouth, the juice was lazily running down her chin before she bit into it, closing her eyes while she licked her lips with a grin.  
  
Fenris swallowed sharply watching that tongue dart out again, "Avanna, demon."  
  
"Anders want me have apple before deep. So, got ten," she wrinkled her nose up now wiping the juice with her thumb, "Hawke help me talk more. Word still, strange for me."  
  
"I see," he looked forward again so he didn't have to look at her while they go through one of the gates out the city, "Ten apples though? I don't think you can eat them all before they rot away, demon."  
  
"Fuck."  
  
Fenris barked a laugh looking back at her, "Did you just swear? Fasta Vass, what has he been teaching you?" and there he goes, once again, conversing with the demon. Why oh why didn't it just stop coming out from his mouth?  
  
He frowned watching Hawke and Anders link their fingers together briefly, before they parted allowing Hawke to talk to the dwarfs brother. So, he tilted his head when Carver nudged Anders shoulder chuckling, they decided to move ahead then. He then flinched as an apple was held out in-front of him.  
  
"Take apple now? No make go way, please. I try be nice."  
  
"I," he gingerly took the green thing from her hand this time, "thank you."  
  
"Hawke want fuck Anders. Love lots," she nodded her head pointing at them, "Justice happy too. I be no happy if all hurt. No like hurt. You hurt. You look pretty now."  
  
Fenris just did a double take at the demon. Did she really just say all that out loud? Venhedis, she did. He wrinkled his nose up biting hard into the apple, just so nothing else would pour out of his mouth. Huh, the apple was bitter sweet when he bit into it again, the tang of the juice made his tongue twitch in his mouth, savouring the flavour. Bitter sweet. He scoffed when he bit into it again, that was his life exactly.  
  
**********************  
  
Avvi snorted when she laughed, putting her head on Hawkes shoulder as Varric told them all a rather naughty story around the camp fire. She doesn't exactly know why she understands it all, but she does. It almost sounds familiar to her about sex, about love, about all that. It does when Hawke snickered in her ear whispering, "Thats gonna be me and Anders, just you watch."  
  
"Yes. Lots," she grinned back at him.  
  
"OH, lots huh? Like," he searched her eyes, she could feel unsure and excitement come from him, "how much?"  
  
Avvi lent back, tucking his loose hair behind his ear, "Much. You love, he love, both do," she frowned at the feeling of apprehension go through him now, "Why feel that, Hawke?"  
  
He took her hand tugging on it as he stood, "Not here," then pulled her from the ground as everyone around the fire looked at them both.  
  
She followed him into the dark, still feeling the apprehension and excitement go through him again. They stopped a distance away, she could still see the flickering flames of the fire, but now a new feeling went through her from Hawke: He was scared.  
  
"Avvi, you can't tell anyone about this. I'll tell Anders when I'm ready, but," she could clearly see the tinge of pink go across his face when he lowered his head a little, "I've never actually been with anyone. Kissed, yeah sure. I've kissed Isabela to shut her up, but Anders," he shook his head looking her dead in the eyes, "he, he's more experienced then I am at shit."  
  
She frowned tilting her head to one-side, holding his hand even tighter, "You scare he hurt you? But he no hurt you, Justice no hurt you."  
  
"Yeah. I mean no. Fuck, I have no idea what I mean. I don't even know what to bloody expect," he frowned looking over at the camp now, looking right at Anders, "I'm just scared he'll laugh at me."  
  
Avvi put her free hand on his face bringing it close her hers, before she rested her forehead on his, "He no do that. Tell him. He love you, Hawke. You make feel happy. You happy too. I know that."  
  
"You sure? You fucking sure he's not going to laugh me out the bed, because I've never fucked before? Knowing me, I'll do something really stupid, like offer a sandwich or some shit."  
  
She giggled then kissed his nose, "Be start. Food then fuck!"  
  
"Makers bloody breath, Avvi. Now your giving me weird ideas," he giggled back pulling her hard in for a hug as he usually does, "Wait-" he pulled back quirking an eyebrow at her, "Can you even use food like that?"  
  
She just shrugged, "Maybe? I-"  
  
"What are you two doing?"  
  
Both of them look over at Anders standing there with his arms folded over his chest. Avvi winked at him, Hawke on the other hand buried his face on her shoulder, "You need talk."  
  
He whined loud on her shoulder, still trying bury his face into it, "Aaaavvvvviiiii."  
  
"Talk about what?" he almost scowled at them both. Justice, she could feel, was sending out his own question at her, 'Whats going on?'  
  
'He scared,' she sent back pulling away from the man, then pushed him over to them both, 'You need talk. All do.'  
  
"Avvi, nooooo," Hawke went grabby hands at her when she dipped her head going past them all, leaving them all alone, "Maker, don't leave me. I NEED YOU!"  
  
She smirked over her shoulder, then said, "Sandwich," before going back to the campfire.  
  
Oh, she could feel Justice asking her not to listen, she sent back she wasn't going to, she wanted to read a book. Her friend chuckled at her asking if it was a dirty book. Avvi, blushed sitting down at the campfire, but Justice knew by her silence that it was. She waved him off to talk to Hawke while she dug around in her pack.  
  
It wasn't exactly dirty or sexual in nature, it was about mortals and their bodies. An adult book for those who wanted to study about every races body. She was a bit upset that there wasn't any about spirits bodies in that at all. She knows, but she doesn't know how, that all spirits have no gender at all, except those who choose to look like either male or female. Like a true Desire does, or those who talk often to mortals wanting to be more friendly to them.  
  
Avvi HATED the fact that she was supposed to of been a succubi, a thing that uses mortals in every way possible. That wasn't what she was. She hated the fact she had horns on her head denoting thats what she was meant to be. Her tail on the other hand, she liked that when she grabbed a mug of water with it bringing it to her mouth. But still, she flicked the book open to study it more, she wanted to learn as much as she could about everything.  
  
"Demon?"  
  
Avvi cocked her head at Fenris' voice on the opposite side of the flames, "Yes?" she felt the confliction in him again, but ignored it looking at him.  
  
"What is that your reading? What kind of book is it?" one of his eyebrows were quirked trying to see what it was.  
  
She showed him the cover, "Is about mor-mort-mortal body. I learn. No spirit body in. Just mort-mortal."  
  
The look on his face made her cock her head again. She felt a flood of curiosity, confusion, and one that made her tail thump on the ground, anger. That one was always there, always over the top of everything in him, in his broken song too. All these emotions she could feel from mortals were getting more and more the longer she was around them. Now all she wanted was to talk to Justice, because right now, she was feeling confused herself when the white haired elf rose swiftly from the ground to his tent.  
  
She thumped her tail on the ground going back to study. Varric had given her other books to read in the depths. He was more then happy to loan her several from his own private stash, even Isabela had given her a very very dirty book to read. She won't read that one yet until she's more sure about herself.  
  
The confusion and curiosity came back again and sat right next to her. The broken song hummed right into her when Fenris lent forward, then took the book from her hands to look through.  
  
"Why learn about mortal bodies, demon? What are you planning?"  
  
Avvi lent away from him when she felt a very odd emotion, one she's never felt from him before, "I want learn. I want learn things. Isabela give me dirty one, no read yet."  
  
Fenris squinted at the pictures, at the words, then shoved it back into her hands, "I see. If you wish to learn about bodies in that way, go to a whore house, demon."  
  
"WHAT!" she rose swiftly from the ground away from him, "I no do that!"  
  
"And why not, thats what you are!" he spat back, "You tempt me, so why not go to a place where you can tempt EVERYONE!" he got off the ground now too glaring at her, "Desires are nothing but whores. Manipulative, tempting, WHORES!"  
  
Avvi wrinkled her nose up at him lowering her head as her tail thumped against her legs, "I be nice to you. I be nice all. But you," she growled through her teeth pointing at him, "no nice to me. Angry, always angry. Hurt, pain, sad, dark dirty magic in broken song make more angry. I be nice, but you, you no not what want."  
  
'My friend? Whats happening?' Justice reached out to her worried when she sent out a wave of hurt over everything, running into the shared tent with Varric, 'Avvi, whats going on?'  
  
'I hurt. He no like me,' she sniffed tucking herself up into a ball, 'No fix broken things. Go back talk with Hawke. Let me be.'  
  
'He hurts as well, Avvi. You know this, you feel it as much as I can. He is confused about you, most are. But I will allow you to rest, we have a long journey ahead of us.'  
  
Avvi sent back a thank you to him, tucking herself more into a ball. She now felt more broken then before and she doesn't know why.

**********************  
  
Fenris stood there dumbfounded when the demon ran away to the dwarfs tent. He wasn't expecting THAT reaction at all when he tried to goad her. He was expecting the demon to attack him, do something other then run away to cry.  
  
Fasta Vass, he didn't know what he expected to happen, but certainly not any of that at all.  
  
Carver slowly walked over to him from his tent, his rather large arms crossed over his chest, glowering at him with his pale blue eye, "The fuck is your problem, elf? She's been nothing but nice to you, to everyone."  
  
"She is a demon," he said out rather lamely even for him, "She's just trying to-"  
  
"NO! You fucking well listen here, MATE!" Carver spat at him, "Avvi's not tempting anyone. She's not cast some fucking imaginary spell on any of us. You want to know why I know?" the younger man sneered his lip up then flicked out his hand as purple trickled in it, "Because I'm a fucking Templar you ignorant piece of shit."  
  
Fenris stepped back several paces away from Carver. He had no IDEA-  
  
"I, I did not realise."  
  
Carver scoffed recrossing his arm again, "No-one fucking does other then my brother. Other then my mum, my fucking twin sister and dad who's both now dead. You know why I'm a Templar? I did it so I keep my family out of trouble. So nothing can get at Garrett, get at Bethany. So I can protect them with EVERYTHING that I am. So you can get off your fucking high horse about Anders, about my brother, and about Avvi."  
  
"What about the blood mage?" Fenris spat back at him.  
  
"If she crosses the line, Garrett gave me the word to take the head from her shoulders. Simple as that, mate. But," Carver now poked his chest, hard, "if I ever hear you say shit like that again to Avvi, to Anders or to my fucking brother, I'll take your bloody head off instead. Understand."  
  
Fenris nodded backing away again when the younger man left him standing there. He clamped his eyes shut diving head first into his tent, roughly tying the flaps closed before giving up, flopping down on his back.  
  
He was nothing but Kaffas, fisting his hands into balls. But he found it hard to let his old life go, even now he found it hard to let it all go. Fenris clamped his eyes even tighter pushing every single bit of emotion away from him, digging his nails deep into his palms. He'd rather be Kaffas... then himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay dokey, so Fenris is a very tall elf. Anders is six foot six, cos I like a very tall Anders. Fenris is six four. His new armour and hair cut is the same as in WoT.  
> This one by Rojaq is perfect for this story - http://www.gramunion.com/rojaq.tumblr.com/164414138631
> 
> Hawkes about five ten, same as Avvi. Carvers six foot, because its Carver. Little big bro *grins*
> 
> Kaffas means Shit.  
> Avanna - Hello.  
> Venhedis - Wolfpenis *I always giggle at that*  
> Fasta Vass - Not to sure. Maybe fucking hell? What the fuck? No translation for it on Wiki other then a swear word.
> 
> (This one may get re-written at a later date.)


	4. The gentle slope of the mountain. (Part one)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirkwall is going to shit. When doesn't it? But nonetheless, it's going to shit and I'm stuck in the middle of a brewing war thats going to happen. Maker, if this doesn't kill me, my damned fellow Templars might when they find out.
> 
> Set in Act 2 following a Templar from the Gallows who meets Hawke under it at the worst possible time. And this said Templar is in for one hell of a shock when they finally meets Bethany's brother... and friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alt-Hawke in this story that really did go no-where at all.  
> Was a shame... was going to have a GREAT twist later on too.

**One. Prologue.**  
  
I will never forget the day I pulled the shroud over his face, it looked peaceful for the first time in years. Too many years of torture hidden in those eyes of his. Too many years of seeing things he never wanted to see. Never wanted to live through, but he did. And so did I when I got there.  
  
Maker, it never got any better the older I got, still remembering him burning on the pyre. Even though mother stood by me watching too, she was never the same again after that.  
  
None of us were.  
  
But still, he was finally at peace with everything. And I pray to the damn Maker he keeps him safe where ever he is now.  
  
As I got older, I took my vows, I took my vigil and became him. It was his wish that I took the torch, so to speak, and be a protector rather then a murdering bastard the others were.  
  
I scoffed at that thought when I stood by my mother when they sundered her mind, took everything away from her. I couldn't bloody protect her and never could again. I tried every damn day, but it never helped, never worked. And I got handed my arse several times over for it too.  
  
She's dead now, then I became alone in this place of pure vileness.  
  
All the elder ones know who I am, who my mother and father were. They look at me like filth on the bottom of their boots. Filth they can ridicule. All because my mummy was a mage, and daddy the Templar actually loved her so. The newer ones hate my guts just as much, but I care little what any of them think.  
  
It didn't make me bitter, Maker no. It just strengthened my resolve to never ever be like them. I will never stoop to their level. I am my own Templar and I will do things my damned way, whether Meredith bloody Stannard likes it or not. Well, I hope she doesn't like it, not like I'd tell her I'm doing it my way. She'd kill me otherwise. They all would.  
  
But I will still never forget the day dad burned, the day I bent my knee to the Maker and his Bride in forgiveness. It will always feel like my fault he died, that mother was made a tranquil. All because I was born. All because I exist from their actual love, not some Templar raping a mage either. They loved each other, would always love each other now. But it still feels like my fault their both gone now and I'm here alone in these walls.  
  
Well, that was until I met a certain young lady, who was like a ray of sunshine in this dark place.  
  
She was unlike any other I had met. She was Orsino's star pupil too, being made Junior Enchanter early and kept that title until the fall of it all. But she really was unlike any other mage within this place: Her looks, her sunny disposition, her studious nature.  
  
And then...   
  
And then there was her brother and his friends.  
  
My world flipped on its head when I first met them all. Well, not just the world but me too, in every which way possible.  
  
Maker, if only things were simple.  
  
Never would be again, not even now.  
  
The world was sundered as much as everything else. The war between Templar and Mage. The hole in the damned sky. Ugh, everything went south, then north, then theres-  
  
Sorry, I'm getting far too ahead of myself here.  
  
My name?  
  
Depends on who you ask. I go by a few now, but my real name is-

* * *

  
**Two.**  
  
"Revar, where the Makers bollocks are you now girl?"  
  
Thrask huffs walking down the stone hallway, the candles barely lighting the way this time of day. Not like it mattered much being in the Gallows: it was always dark behind these walls. Always full of twists and turns to hide the bad ones, ready and waiting to pull you aside to do what they like to the mages. Bastards, the whole lot of them. Thrask was looking for me that particular day for a reason, apparently. I was busy in the library with Bethany again, helping her with the younger ones with reading and writing as normal.  
  
But still, "Revar, where- Maker there you are girl."  
  
"Thrask, I'm hardly a girl any more," I chuckled at him and his red face. Poor man, his daughter died a few years previous when she turned. He told me in private one day, Maker, my heart wept for him for it.  
  
"Yes well," he rolls his eyes and waves his hand at me, "I need you for a... favour."  
  
A favour? What in the Makers dingy knickers does he need a favour from me for? Well, whatever it is, seems bloody important.  
  
"Name it," I say to him and I can see the utter relief on his face, the way his shoulders relax when he smiles behind his bushy beard at me.  
  
Bethany snickers next to me, knocking my arm. Which just makes me glare without heat at her shaking my head as Thrask shakes his own.  
  
"There have been 'rumours' of a certain mage using the tunnels under the Gallows to," he tries to keep his voice as low as possible, bit difficult in the library with ears and eyes everywhere around us, "break out some of the mages. Revar, I need you to, well, make sure their wrong."  
  
"So what? Let them take the sodding mages out of here. Better out there then in here, Thrask."  
  
He grabs my arm and hauls me out of the seat next to Bethany, the young ones all watch in horror when he hisses in my ear, "Because it'll be your damn life on the line again, Revar. You go down tomorrow night, and Maker, you had better come back with something."  
  
"But, you just said-"  
  
He glared at me again, practically shoving me away pointing his finger in my chest, "Prove them right or wrong."  
  
I... just can't believe him. First he wants them to be wrong, now right? What the hell is going on?  
  
Bethany wraps her arm around me when he storms off, patting my shoulder with a pale hand. We've been friends for the past few years in this place, keeping her away from the unsavouries, not like I needed too, but I did. And we both kept those bastards away from the young ones too. We spoke often about her family, the friends she made before coming here.  
  
Maker, they all sound like a marvelous bunch of nutters to me. I want meet them so bad its stupid. Want to meet her brother more, if Beth's musings on him were anything to go by.  
  
Everyone was so startled when she arrived with that new Knight-Captain, but not me, not the wee ones. I was in awe when she walked on by with her black hair trailing behind her like sails on the high seas. She had it pony tailed right now, showing her features off. I'm not exactly short, but standing right next to her, I was a plain jenny and short as a dwarf. But she arrived like she owned the Gallows, that she was meant to be there. Her pale moonlight skin, her deep brown eyes smiling at everyone and everything. Makes me wonder what her brother was like, well, half brother anyway.  
  
"You really going to go check it out?" and then there was Bethany's sweet voice.  
  
I just shrug when she lets my shoulder go, "If I don't, I'll be in trouble. If I do, I'll be in trouble. No win-win here, Bethy."  
  
"Just, be safe when you do go. If it's who I think it is," she wince then wrinkles her nose up, "yeah, just be careful."  
  
I wondered who she was referring too: The elf who could take hearts out of chests? The dwarf with the crossbow I've heard ALOT about from Thrask as well? The dainty blood mage Dalish girl? Ooooh, maybe it'll be the Ex-grey warden! Though, Beth doesn't really talk about him much.  
  
Meh, she has a lot of friends out there waiting for the day she leaves, me on the other hand. Nope. None. Nada. Nothing out there waiting for me. Same with a lot of others in here, mage or otherwise.  
  
I stand there for a few moments longer before I return to my seat. These kiddies wont learn anything by me standing there like a gaping fish.  
  
***********************  
  
Ella's missing. Of course she's bloody well missing. She would just HAVE to go missing on the day I'm doing this damn favour for Thrask. Of course. Just my luck.  
  
I just sit there staring at my lyrium philter. I hate taking the stuff. I wish to the damn Maker I didn't have to take it to be what I am, but there was no other way. I was bound to it as it was bound to me. But I still stare at it, hoping it would burst into flames before I give up and take my dose.  
  
The sweet taste touches my tongue, the blue liquid rolls down the back of my throat like Andraste's courage. Tastes like ambrosia, but in the end, it'll taste like the void when it sunders my mind turning me into a drooling vegetable. Wonderful.  
  
Maker Ella, why did you have to go today of all days? Just when Bethany was finally getting through to you. Both of us were.  
  
But why did you go, why did you run little Ella? You could of just said something, I would of found a way for you.  
  
Not like she's going to hear me sitting here as the lyrium goes through my body. Drug addict that I am. I hate it. I hate you. I really really fucking hate you.  
  
I swear sometimes I hear a song whenever I take it. Every-time I'm near the stuff. I swear it's like a delicate chime of bells or a thousand voices that makes me ache. Maybe I'm just going mad, thats it. I'm starting to go mad after all these years, thats what I'm putting it down to.  
  
No, this isn't getting me going. I need to go find out who's helping the mages escape. BRAVO. I'll give them a sodding medal, maybe my helm and tell Cullen I lost it thanks to Thrask sending me on a fools errand.  
  
My arms and legs feel heavy as I put my armour on, everything on me feels heavy. It's not normally like this when I take my dose. Normally I'm ready to take on the world, keep those sick bastards away from my charges, but not today. Feels like my heart is going to drop out through my feet when I move. I've not felt this heavy since father died, since I had to-  
  
No Revar, not right now. We have to find Ella, we need to find her and make sure like hell she's not dead. Never be able to forgive myself if she is.  
  
Maker, my feet feel like lead weights going through the darkened halls. My hands feel like their shaking. My body, feels horrible. Shit. I hope the bloody Carta hasn't poisoned the lyrium supply again, Maker I hope not. Bad enough I had to sit and watch the last lot go through it with blood pouring out of their eyes and ears, before they shat themselves and died. Ugh.  
  
The twinge of magic goes over my skin and I smile. Bethany. I know her magic anywhere when I go past the training room.  
  
And there she is with the older apprentices, showing the younger ones control. I smile again when she sees me and I nod at her, waving my hand at everyone else.  
  
"You off?" she asks me looking troubled. I know how she feels.  
  
"Yeah. Beth," I swallow when she takes my hands in hers, "stay safe tonight. All of you, please," I beg them all when I look at them all, "I have a bad feeling."  
  
They all nod in unison. Bethany pulls me in for a hard hug rubbing my back, "Stay safe too, huh."  
  
"If I don't come back," I swallow hard again resting my head against the side of hers, "you can have my meager stuff. Such as it is."  
  
She's just about to reply when I shake my head at her, "I mean it. I have my money on me, and my fathers ring. Everything else is yours. I need to go." And I kiss her cheek when she stands on her tip toes.  
  
We're not lovers, Maker no. We're friends. I don't want to turn my back when I hold her hand tighter, I just have a bad feeling. I hate my feelings sometimes, I wish I could strip them away to never feel anything again. I don't want to do this stupid favour any more when I leave the training room, I just want to go to bed and sleep for a week. No chance of that happening now is there.  
  
But I need to go, Beth and the others will look after each other, she's strong. She'll make them all strong too. That's just how she is when I smile sadly to myself and leave for the tunnels.  
  
Maker, watch over them for me. Watch over me too. I don't like where this going.

***********************  
  
The tunnels felt cramped and tight, felt like they were choking me the further I walked alone. Maker, why was I sodding alone doing this? I wanted to bring Keran with me, but no, he was still being watched by the Knight-Captain for possession. It's been sodding years, the boys fine.  
  
A light flickered up ahead, making me stop in my tracks. Was that a torch or...?  
  
Voices, and some I recognise as well echo throughout the tunnel I'm occupying. One of them was-  
  
I set off running as fast as I can down the darkened path, my skirts whipping around my legs when I pound my boots on the dirt. Maker, I better get there before they fucking well do something to her. I wont allow it!  
  
"Who's this?"  
  
"It's the divine, come all the way from Orlais to tell you what a sodding jackass you are."  
  
Then, the deepest rumbling voice ran through me when I get to the cavern, "You fiends will never touch another mage again!"  
  
"ALRIK!" I shout when I slowly walk forward, the other shouting around the cavern stops, everyone looks up at me when I emerge from the darkness, "Enough."  
  
He scoffs, of course he does when he sees me. They all do from under their helms when they face me. A blue light flickered around us, but I ignore it when I pin my gaze to Alrik right next to Ella.  
  
"Ser Revar, why am I not surprised your part of this, farce," he scoffs again grabbing Ella's hand waving with the other.  
  
"Maker bloody take you Alrik, you leave her alone!" I spat at him standing above them all, righteous anger flowed through me as I clasp my hands into fists by my side, the sweet song echoing through my body like fire, "I'm tired of turning around finding you there, with YET another mage in your filthy clasp. You make me sick," I spat again, for real, right on his bald fucking head.  
  
"Your treading a fine damn line, Ser Revar Carver," there was a small gasp from behind him somewhere, but I ignore when Alrik prattles on again, "She was escaping, and I intend on-"  
  
"I know what you intend to do," I growl low walking down the stone steps, unsheathing my swords at my hips, "Like you do with every other fucking tranquil and little girl you get your grubby, shit filled hands on. I'm ending this."  
  
Alrik's blue eyes pin me when I stand in-front of him, my height almost over shadows his own, making him look up at me when I curl my lip up at him, "You? You alone? Or perhaps the lackeys you bought behind us will help, hmm? Ser Doonican, take her into custody, take them all in to custody."  
  
The man grins as shackles were taken from belts, the blue light flickered again sending a wave of pure indignation through me, dropping my swords. And I revel in it when I bring my fist back into Alrik's smug face, cracking his nose wide open like he did with mine years before. I bring my fist into his face over and over again sending us both sprawling onto the floor as my fists rein down on his face, his disgusting blood splattering me everywhere as the echo of a battle silently rings out behind us.  
  
A hand grabs my hair pulling me away from the now blooded face of Alrik, and I snarl my lip again bringing my elbow back. I relish in the sound on the painful grunt and the clank of armour hitting the floor. Ser Doonican writhes in the dirt holding his crouch, and I can't help but let a chuckle leave my lips when I retrieve my swords. I want to relieve him of his manhood, give justice to those he forced himself on.  
  
And I do just that. I bring my swords down through his hands to his groin, pinning both them and him to the ground then twisted my blades. He screams in agony, but I care little when I withdraw them. I care little when he pleads me to stop. I just shake my head thrusting my blade through his helm slot, through his shit brown eyes.  
  
"Maker, please Revar, STOP! MAKER STOP!" Ahhh another voice I know well when I face them. Ser Gerge.  
  
I shake my head slowly pulling my blade free from Doonican's helm slot, pointing the other right at him, "Why in the Makers fucking name should I? ANSWER ME!"  
  
"I, I wanted no part of this," he pleads backing away on his hands and knees, "Please, Revar, you have to believe me!"  
  
"You expect me to believe the shit spewing from your mouth, Gerge? You expect me to just walk away from all this," I wave my swords around us, "and ignore the fact that YOU were here with Alrik?"  
  
I dip my head and smirk as I lent down to his quivering lip, "You are very much mistaken. I know what you do, I know what all of your damned friends did for him. I know what I'm about to do to you wont be the justice that should be served, but it'll be a step closer, don't you think."  
  
Gerge just screams when he tries to flee, scrabbling off the floor like a pitiful dog. I kick him back down where he belongs, shoving my booted foot into his stomach. He curls up into a ball on the floor, so I kick his helmet off his head, his dirty brown hair spilling out from it when his head snaps back. I bring my foot down on his head, hearing it crack each time I bring it down on his lying sick face. His breathing was getting ragged, his pleads falling on my deaf ears when I bring my boot down on his head one final time, snapping his neck.  
  
But I just stand there heaving once more, my fists tighten by my sides looking at the bodies of Alrik's men. Some, were severed in two. Some had bolts sticking from their prone bodies.  
  
And others, looked to be torn apart and scorched, their limbs scattered around the cavern.  
  
"Revar," a small voice pulls me from my musings as Ella flings herself at me.  
  
I bend down pulling her tight against my chest and shoulder, rubbing her hair and back in comfort, "Maker, Ella, why did you run away? We could of helped, sweetie," I murmur into her dark hair.  
  
"I, I just wanted to see my mum. They didn't tell her were I-" she broke down into tears on my shoulder. I hated that, I hated the fact they never told families where they were taking their children.  
  
"They will die, I will have every last Templar for these abuses."  
  
What the sweet shit?  
  
"Calm down Anders. We'll kill them all I promise, but not right now."  
  
The blue light flickered in agitation around me when I look up... and fell flat on my arse pulling Ella closer to me when I do.  
  
There was a tall blond man with blue cracks like lightening going across his skin, his eyes swirled with blue and white light. His lip was curled up angrily when he looks at me, his staff shaking hard in his hand when he storms over to me and Ella.  
  
"Get away from us demon!"  
  
"I am no demon! Are you one to call me such?"  
  
Oh sweet Maker, why did you have to go and do that for Ella?  
  
"ANDERS ENOUGH! She's just a little girl and the Templars protecting her. Stand down!" Oh sweet Maker, is that...  
  
"She is theirs I can feel their hold on her," Oh this Anders person wasn't listening when he looks back at us.  
  
I slowly stand as the blond lightening cracked man seethes in anger at me, pulling Ella up as well, "I wont let you touch a damn hair on her head. Let her go, and I'll make sure no-one hears about any of this. Maker, I know I won't be alive long enough to explain any of it as it is," I mutter out.  
  
"Anders, Justice, listen to me. She's protecting the little girl, the same little girl your trying to save too. Do you really want to kill them? Where would be the justice in that if you do so?"  
  
The man furrows his brow looking at me, his blue swirling eyes looking over my face and armour, his free hand twitching when he lifts it closer. Maker, why was the song so loud in my ears when he does it? Why did it catch my tongue like Andraste's ambrosia I have to take?  
  
"Justice answers to nobody," the man murmured out, his fingers nearly touching my face. I feel like fainting when he snaps his hand back, "But I will listen."  
  
I let out a sigh taking Ella's hand again and nod my head. "Thank you. Shit, I'm in deep now, I just know it. Ella," I look down at her while I pull my money pouch from my armour, "take this and leave Kirkwall. Go home, get your mum and brother and get out of here. Don't ever come back, okay."  
  
She nods at me taking the pouch from my hand, "Revar, what about you?" she asks in her quiet voice, and all I can do is smile sadly at her, running my hand over her head.  
  
"I was in trouble the moment I set foot down here. I'll deal with it, sweetie. Now go home, the way behind me is clear."  
  
"Tell Bethany I'm sorry. Andraste be with you, Revar Carver, may she guide your path," Ella runs off clutching the pouch close to her chest, and I sigh heavily lowering my head. I knew I wouldn't come back from this, and if I did, I'll still be dead when they find Alrik's body down here with his lackeys.  
  
"Ser Revar Carver?" the one that just has to be Bethany's brother taps my shoulder. Well, it couldn't be anyone else being of his size and stature... and horns.  
  
"Yes. Was, I suppose now, huh? If your going to kill me, do it quick."  
  
"What! No, we're not going to kill you. I hope," he smiles at her from above then over to Anders, or was it Justice? "We're not, right? She knows my sister."  
  
The glowing man shifts his shoulders still staring at me, "It, would not be just in doing so. But Anders is frightened she will relay all this back to the Templars, to Meredith."  
  
"Really!" I snark out, putting my fist on my hip, "You think I'm in cahoots with that bitch? If I were a bloody mage, she'd be burnt to cinders a thousand times over by now. Maker, Bethy might just do that one day," I smirk.  
  
I sigh again, shaking my head once more re-sheathing my blood soaked swords on my hips, "I have to get back, I suppose. Maker, Thrask and Cullen are going to kill me, I just know it."  
  
"Why not come with us? Oh crap, I'm Talan Hawke, Bethany's half brother," he bows at me, his dark braided hair tumbled over his left shoulder, "We could use someone like you."  
  
"You... what? Are, are you bloody serious? Hawke, please tell me your joking!"  
  
Talan just smirked looking at the blond man who had pale honey eyes now, instead of swirling blue ones, "I'm always serious, Anders. Besides, we could do with a Templar in our group, could we not? And who knows," he smirks looking back at me, "she might have a LOT of useful information we could use."  
  
Maker, I... stood there with my mouth open at him. Should I? Could I just leave? What about my addiction? I knew I wouldn't come back from this, but didn't think-  
  
My eyes bulge out of my head when I stumble forward, something struck me in my back then was pulled out hard. I sank to the ground as shouts went out around me while I was on my knees. Something wet rolled out of my mouth and touched it with my gauntleted hand, and winced when I tried to cough. Blood, blood was coming out of my mouth, my chest felt on fire when I fell forward. I couldn't breathe.  
  
I couldn't see either when I blanked out, feeling the taste of ambrosia in my mouth and the thousand singing voices in my ears, lulling me into the black.

* * *

  
**Three.**  
  
Anders paced around in the back of the clinic, wringing his hands together over and over again waiting for Hawke to hurry up. It's been a bloody week now since the whole Gallows thing happened, and he's still none the wiser about himself, about Hawke. And more importantly, about the woman laying in one of his cots. A Templar at that.  
  
Andraste's flaming knickers, he actually helped a sodding Templar with his own free will. Well, himself and Justice that is. The spirit was quiet the whole time he healed her, watching her, waiting in-case. Waiting for what though? When he paces again smoothing his hair back, then untying it, retying it, then throwing the stupid tie against the wall when it breaks.  
  
Would she turn on them all? Would she turn him in? No, no, she protected the little girl from Alrik and himself. She was going to lay down her life as well. Templars never do that, let alone hand over a pouch of money to a mage telling them to leave. Let alone be friends with mages. But Maker, there was just something about her that burned from within, and both himself and Justice could feel it when they look at her again.  
  
It was like what burned from within himself too, or so everyone told him so.  
  
She fought her own kind for the little girl, she KILLED Alrik. She stood in-front of her while Justice seethed in righteous fury, and held firm against him. She burned with righteousness too, unlike any damn Templar he has ever known, and she knew it as well. He could see that when he stands by her cot and looks down. She knew what she was and held her head high, but yet-  
  
"Anders, we need to talk," Talan finally arrived, and thank the Maker for that.  
  
Anders smiled at him, his blond hair flopping about his face making him want to sigh out in annoyance at it, "Anything you need, Hawke."  
  
"Yes, well," Talan blushed slightly, enhancing his already pale grey skin with pink, "it's about the Tranquil Solution and Alrik. You were both right... and wrong."  
  
Talan hands Anders a stack of papers, backing off a few steps to look at the woman laying in the cot, "How's she doing?"  
  
"She's fine. Should be awake, but seems she too bloody stubborn to do it," Anders chuckled reading through the papers, "Makers breath, the Divine rejected the idea, Meredith rejected the idea! Maybe the grand cleric would be more reasonable then I thought. Perhaps she would listen now that I have proof about him."  
  
"Maybe. You know me and chantry bullshit," Talan chuckled shrugging, "But yeah, seems he and his friends were alone in their desire to strip every mages mind. And thank everything for that, at least Bethany will be a lot safer without him there."  
  
Anders puts the stack of papers next to his manifesto, then chews on his lip. He needed to gauge how to say the next thing to the man who stole his heart, his mind, his, everything. Hawke flirted yes, but he still had no idea if the damn half-Qunari was even remotely interested in him. Justice certainly wasn't, calling him a distraction from the course. Pah, stupid poxy spirit, he needs this. He needs Hawke.  
  
"I- thank you Hawke. This means a lot to me," Anders smiles softly over his shoulder at the taller man, "to all of us. Can, can I ask you something personal?"  
  
Talan tilted his head to one side, then nodded. Anders pushes away from his desk and slowly walks over to him, trying to calm the storm that was raging inside him looking up at Talan. His beautiful face, his broken odd shaped horns, his blue eyes and dark hair, making him ache from head to toe to touch him everywhere.  
  
Anders sucked in a deep breath and smiled when he spoke, "For three years, I laid aching for you. I fell in love with you the moment we met, Hawke, I fell in love with the whole of you. You are the most beautiful person I have ever met, and Maker, I hope you feel the same for me." His hearted pounded hard in his chest searching Talan's eyes, the tinge of pink going across his cheeks again was still the most precious and cutest thing he would ever see.  
  
But then, there was silence. It was stretching on, and on and... on, almost deafening Anders ears when Talan turned his head slightly from him. He knew, he sodding well knew when he took a step back.  
  
"Anders, your a damn good friend. I- I just can't see us like that, you know. I wont ruin a friendship by sleeping with you, okay."  
  
And there it was, the rejection. Justice squirmed inside him like a happy firebug at it, which pleased Anders no end.  
  
"Sorry, I just thought- never mind," his gut feels like it's been punched when he nods backing away ever more. He feels like he wants to be sick when he nods again.  
  
"I do like you Anders, just not in that way. If I led you on, then I'm sorry, it's just how I am. I flirt with everyone to make them feel, better about themselves I suppose," Talan ran a hand over his shortest horn, "I shot Merrill down as well when she thought I meant every word. Shit, even Fenris tried it, and now you. What is it with me? Is it because I look like this you all want to ride me?"  
  
Ouch. That cut deep too when Talan waved a hand over himself. Maybe he was right, maybe Anders wanted to love the idea of being with Hawke because he looked so different then everyone else around him. Being ridiculed by other Qunari for being a half-breed, not even being Tal-Vashoth either. It still cut deep when Talan wrinkled his brow up looking down at the ground.  
  
"Sorry, maybe I should go."  
  
"No wait, Hawke," Anders grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving, "I, should be saying sorry. I just thought- I guess I read to much into it. I, I don't want us not to be friends any more, Maker your the best friend I've had in years," he tried to smile, but he knew as soon as Hawke left, he'd cry over it.  
  
Talan sighed out deeply, patting his hand, "It's fine. Let's just forget what was said and move forward, huh. I really do need to go, and for fucks sake, tell me the moment she wakes up. We, meaning I, need to talk to her badly, okay."  
  
"I will," Anders mumbles out letting Hawke's arm go. The man dips his head and leaves the clinic, and leaves him behind feeling empty again. Well, as empty as he could be with Justice inside his damn head.  
  
He stands there for a few moments looking out into Darktown through the clinics doors. He just didn't feel like dealing with the rest of the day, and decides extinguish the lantern and close the doors, and mope around the clinic. He had poultices to make, fat to render, herbs to-  
  
"Maker, I'm so sorry."  
  
Anders jumped what felt like several feet in the air at the voice. He clutched his chest looking at the woman who was looking at him, her green eyes sad.  
  
"Sweet Andraste's nipples, don't ever do that again!" he scolded.  
  
"HAH! Oh I'm stealing that. Andraste's nipples, I like that," Revar giggled pulling the sheet up her body more, "Got any more I can steal?"  
  
Anders narrowed his eyes at her before clomping off to the cabinets, "Yes, and your not stealing them Templar. Don't you think your kind do enough of that?"  
  
"Oh, thats a low blow. I'm not that kind of Templar, but whatever, think of me as you will. And hey, I saved your damn arse down there, by the way, and then you saved mine. Ugh, moot point now," Revar shrugs, "But seriously though, sorry about... all that. I didn't want to listen, but couldn't help it laying here."  
  
"Yes well, it's done now."  
  
Revar scoffed, "So your going to give up, huh? Makers balls, if you give up on things, then whats the point of trying to do anything?"  
  
"What in the Makers name are you talking about now, Templar?" Anders whined slamming the cabinet doors shut to stare at her, "If your going to sit there and spout your bullshit at me, let me tell you right now," he pointed his finger at her shaking, "You can fuck right off with it. Your a Templar and I'm a bloody mage, we have NOTHING in common."  
  
Revar sat there with her eyes wide at him, her mouth slightly parted. She then frowned looking down in her lap, "Wow, fine. Guess you didn't see the stupid scars on my back huh? Or the one over my damn lips? My broken nose? You think I did all that to myself? I bloody well didn't, alright. We may not be the same, but I damn well had a shit time locked behind those wall as much as any other fucking mage, alright!"  
  
"Really. Oh really," Anders snarked leaning against his cabinet draws, folding his arms across his ever thinning chest, "So you've never killed a mage? Never touched one out of anger? Your all the same no matter how pretty you try and paint it. I can't believe Hawke even brought you here, to my poxy clinic. A fucking Templar sitting there, on my cot, using my blanket, using my damn mana up to save. Fucking lyrium addicted Templar piece of shit."  
  
Revar's eyes went even wider at him, "What the hell have I ever done to you? I don't even know you. Makers breath, you could of just left me there, you know. Didn't need to heal me or nothing, okay. They would of killed me regardless when I went back, still might," she shook her head when she climbed out of the cot, "I've never touched a mage in any fashion like Alrik and Karras did. I've never killed one either, not even in their Harrowing. I flatly refuse to raise my blade in such a manner. You have no idea what kind of ridicule I've gone through for all of it."  
  
She stood in-front of him now, unafraid. Her green eyes bore into his when he lets out a huff at her, "Then that would make you the worst Templar there ever was," he sneered pushing her away, "Your still a damn Templar, standing in my damn clinic."  
  
"Oh, your a piece of work, ain't you!" she spat at him, "Can't see past the forest for the trees, huh. My father was a good man, my mother was a good mage too. You have no idea about me, and you can't even be bothered to find out. Thank you for the healing. I would give you money because you obviously need it, but I gave it all away to ELLA!" she shouted at him.  
  
"And you think that makes everything Oooooh so right," Anders waves his hands everywhere, then points at her again, "If you want sex, you can forget it."  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
Anders raised an eyebrow at her sputtering face, "Thats what you lot always want. Sex. Favours from all of us. Well you can forget it, sweetie."  
  
"Thats disgusting! I took a vow of chastity! Why in the Makers name would I- Oh sweet Maker, please tell me that didn't- Who did it, I'll fucking kill them!"  
  
Anders stepped back at her anger when she fists her hands at her side, her eyes burned brighter then the sun once more as she shook. This, this poxy bloody Templar was going to go all out on killing people she didn't even know. Killing her own-   
  
'She would do so Anders. You can see the righteousness of her fury burn from within. She is Just.'  
  
He shook his head at Justice talking to him, and stared at her again, "Their in Ferelden, and most likely dead already thanks to the blight," he said quietly.  
  
"Not good enough," she spat, like, literally spat on the ground in disgust, "Bad enough they do that shit in the Gallows, let alone else where. Think of me as you will, I really don't care, but I am not that kind of Templar. I never, ever, will be!"  
  
"Yes well... Ugh," Anders ran a hand through his hair, "Hawke will want to know your awake, for some reason. Maker knows why."  
  
Revar unclenched her fists and relaxed her shoulders, "I know why. Bethany already told me why. She was nearly floored when she learned my name, and no doubt he was as well. Why we became friends, why I looked out for her as much as she looked out for me."  
  
"Your not going to tell me, are you?"  
  
"No I bloody well wont, you snarky rude shit! Just point the way and I'll go find him," Revar rolled her eyes.  
  
***********************  
  
It wasn't often Anders found a woman to be his bloody height, and Makers breath, Revar was as tall as his six foot four frame. Body not included in that, he was getting too skinny whether he acknowledges that fact or not. He still had his muscle under his coat, still had his Warden stamina in his blood along side the Taint. But still, she was tall. Taller then Aveline as they walked down to the Hanged Man together.  
  
The only other person taller then him was Hawke, well, was a given really being half-Qunari and all.  
  
He managed to find clothing to fit Revar's tall and muscular frame, barely. If she weren't a damn Templar, she would of made a damned fine guard, or spirit as Justice rumbled out while he sorted through the donated clothing.  
  
"So," Anders wrinkled his nose up, "a vow of chastity? You really stick with it? No... sneaking off to the Blooming Rose? No-"  
  
Revar put her hand up when she stopped, "Don't even go there, alright. I'm not that depraved. Why do you want to know all of a sudden?"  
  
"Just passing the time," Anders smirked.  
  
"Oh, you- your-" she shook her head and stomped off then stopped several feet away turning around sharply, "If you want to pass the fucking time, stop with the foolish questions and remain silent."  
  
Anders eyebrows slowly rose up to his hair line. Sounded so much like Justice when they first met, it was hilarious, even down to the nose wrinkle she had glaring at him, "You sure your not a spirit?"  
  
"Are you sure you not a court jester?" she snarked back at him, "Certainly act like one more then a mage."  
  
"Oh, and just how are mages supposed to act, all high and mighty Templar."  
  
Revar huffed out a sigh, flung her hands up in the air and stomped off again.   
  
'Do not push her buttons, Anders. Would not be wise to make an enemy of this one. She could help us, and you deem it fit to annoy her endlessly?'  
  
'Maker, shut up Justice. I just want to see how far I can push it before she smites me.'  
  
'Anders, do not.'  
  
'Didn't I just say shut up? Your in my body, my damn rules, not yours!'  
  
The spirit went silent again, not before an indignant huff rippled through him when he chased after the tall woman. But he wanted to know why? No other Templar actually stuck to the damn vow, let alone a rather pretty woman such as-  
  
Anders stopped in his tracks. Why in the Makers name was he thinking she was pretty, let alone looking at her in that way? What the hell was wrong with him!  
  
"Are you going to stand there all day, Jester?"  
  
"Maybe" Anders grins slowly walking to the waiting woman, "what would you do if I did?"  
  
Revar just scoffed, "I'd leave you standing there like a fool while I actually go do something, like, find Talan Hawke. Then maybe I'd have a drink and go to sleep, while you still stood there, gawking up at the sky."  
  
"So no smite? No... cleansing of my magic to put me in my place," Anders really really did want to see how far he could push her despite the protesting from Justice.  
  
"You want to be smited? Are you touched in the head or something? Andraste's dingy knickers, whats wrong with you?"  
  
The look on her face spoke volumes to him, "I sometimes wonder that myself," he sighed walking past her, "Guess your not going to rise to the bait. Bugger."  
  
Revar just snorted in exasperation next to when she caught up, "Is that what this is about? To see if the Templar looses her temper and smites the feather mage? Yeah, gonna have to try harder then that, Jester. Only things that make me loose my temper are abuses against elves, mages and tranquil."  
  
"I would say I love you right now, but I'll probably end up flat on back with a fist to my face," Anders grinned out, Justice was grinning just as much behind his face.  
  
"Don't butter me up, sweetie."  
  
"What if I want to butter you up?" Anders what the fuck are you doing! Shut up. Shut up. Shut the fuck up!  
  
Revar rolled her eyes at him then chuckled, "Yeah, wouldn't get very far."  
  
"And whys that?" Oh he was pushing her buttons in a different way now when she glares at him again.  
  
"I'm going to ignore you now. Oh look, the Hanged Man," she walks swiftly ahead of him, her brown hair swinging behind her like a horses tail when she pushes the door open.  
  
Anders bit back a laugh at the whole thing. There was definitely something wrong with him as he followed her through the door, the smell of stale beer stung his nose when he motioned with his head for her to follow him. Corff, he noted, was watching her every movement, as was Edwina and Norah as they went up the stairs. They must know who she is when he pushes Varric's door open.  
  
"Blondie," Varric nodded at him, pushing his glasses down his nose when Revar came in after him, "And Mercy, good to see your up and about."  
  
"Mercy? What the- no, no I wont ask," Revar chuckled looking at everyone around the table, "Yeah, I'm not out of place here at all."  
  
Varric just snorted pushing his glasses back up his nose, and continued to write in his book. Hawke smiled at them both and waved a hand for Revar to sit somewhere. Merrill had her eyes narrowed at her, as did Fenris and Isabela when she sat down. Sebastian on the other hand grinned wide, nodding his head slowly, "Tis good to see a member of the Order sit with us."  
  
The entire table just groaned at him, Fenris sat there nodding his head in agreement, "Indeed. Perhaps you could deal with the blood mage."  
  
"Creators, Fenris. Did you really need to say it that way?"  
  
Revar sat back in her chair with her eyebrow cocked, "From what I hear, she doesn't bleed people to death. So, no, I wont deal with anyone because you said so," she looks at Sebastian and shakes her head at him, "And how about you go sit on it Sebastian. You've been bumming around for years and done nothing with your damn life except pretending to be a brother. How about you go home and deal with Starkhaven instead of sitting here, suckling on Elthina's damned tits."  
  
Sebastian's face turned bright red when he rose from his chair, excusing himself. Anders hid a snicker behind his hand when the Pious prince ran from the room, almost on the verge of tears.  
  
"HAH, we've been trying to get him out for hours now, Mercy. Choir boy just doesn't take no for an answer," Varric laughed.  
  
"Yeah well, he's a bloody tit. Maker I hate him, hated him when I first saw his smug face, fresh from Starkhaven. Ugh," Revar shuddered in her chair, "So, Talan," she smirked steepling her fingers on the edge of the table, "Before you ask: Yes, I'm Ser Maurevar Carver's daughter, and yes I take after his footsteps. And yes, I did know your father briefly before he left with my fathers help. I think I was about four of five when I first met him."  
  
Hawke sat there with his mouth open at her, his blue eyes full of wonder that Anders could never get reciprocated. Okay, he was a little jealous when Hawke grinned wide. Of who, Anders couldn't tell you when he listened to the conversation.  
  
"I knew it. I sodding well knew it! Your named after him, right?"  
  
Revar nodded, "Yup, I took after him in almost every way. He was the one who wanted me to become a Templar, and so I did, not not without a huge cost I might add. I was only twelve when he died, and thirteen when I joined. Been a Templar for fifteen years now, and let me tell you," she lent forward, "It's not all fun and games, rainbows in the fucking sky. It's horrible, it's torturous, and it's vile. I've tried to change it on the inside only to be beaten down at every turn. He was a damned good man, one of the few who actually cared for his charges like I do,   
and Maker take everything, nothing short of the chantry being torn apart will change what I've seen."  
  
"And do pray tell, how would you change an institution that's been in place for a thousand years, Templar?" Fenris asked her with a curled lip, "Set mages free to become blood thirty Magisters?"  
  
Revar just smirked sitting back in her chair, "Don't be absurd. You do know not every bloody mage wants to do blood magic right? That every mage needs as much rights as every other person in Thedas? Like every elf deserves that too? That there needs to be protectorates rather then abusers to guide hands and keep the masses from slaughtering innocents. Mages need to be with their families, children should never be torn from them. And if their families don't want a mage child among their number, then let the protectorates look after them and nurture their gifts."  
  
Anders, thinks he fell in love at that moment. He thinks Justice did too when she spoke of mages having rights. Varric gave her the perfect nickname, Mercy, because thats exactly what he was seeing and hearing when he nodded his head at her words.  
  
Andraste's knicker weasels, he was so doomed.

She was a bloody Templar!


	5. The gentle slope of the mountain. (Part two)

**Four.**

He felt giddy when Revar agreed to come to the mansion with him. She's been staying in the Hanged Man for the past two months now, keeping her head low in-case the Templars came knocking for her. Varric had kept his ear low to the ground as well, and then told them all the order thought she was dead along with Alrik. And thank fuck for that.  
  
She also somehow managed to get several letters to Bethany, and received some back. She wouldn't say how she did it, but that she did. And that was enough for him when he handed over the letters to mother. She was beside her self when she read through them, giving her step-son the biggest damn hug she could for a tiny woman. Ahh, he loved her when he hugged her back, she might not be his actual mother, but she was bloody close to it right now.  
  
But still, Revar was on his mind a lot when he guided her up the Hightown steps to the mansion, like a lot, lot. He didn't know what to make of it in truth. She was tall, her eyes were a nice green colour and her hair a lovely shade of brown. And she wasn't afraid of him like everyone else was. Talan wasn't exactly versed on the whole love thing, but knew enough that he liked her being around.  
  
Liked the fact she and Bethany looked after each other in the Gallows and that his sister was still safe and sound in those walls. As Revar said, she owned the place and we all knew it when she came through those doors. His brother would of loved the ex-Templar as well, they would of gotten along swimmingly if he didn't die during the blight. No, no Talan, it's been four years now.  
  
Talan sighed internally looking sideways at Revar. She was a few years older then him, just like Anders is. But yet, she didn't make him feel uncomfortable like the other man did. He liked Anders, yes, but not in that way. Ugh, he was only seventeen coming into Kirkwall, Bethany a year older. Garrett died trying to save fathers life three years previous, leaving Carver to be the man of the house, and mother to deal with three bratty teenagers.  
  
But the fact Anders declared he fell in love with him when he was eighteen, made him feel... weird at that thought.  
  
"So, Talan," he shook his head as Revar addressed him and smiled at her.  
  
"Sorry, lost in my own thoughts for a moment."  
  
She just snorted, waving her hand, "It's fine. I daydreamed a lot in the Gallows, trust me on that. But anyway, you sure your mother wants to see me? I mean, it's been a long fucking time since I remember your father, let alone her."  
  
"Shows what you know about her," he snickered.  
  
"I don't know shit, thats the point," Revar smiles shaking her head at him, "It's been over twenty sodding years now, Talan. I was just a little girl when they fled from Kirkwall. Maker, your making me feel old here."  
  
Talan grins looking down at her, "Uh huh. You only what, twenty eight, nine?"  
  
"Exactly! OLD," she jabs his arm.  
  
"Sure, whatever you say, Templar. Anders is older then you by what, five or six years? Then theres Varric who's in his forty's. Your not old, Revi."  
  
Revar jabs his arm again while she laughs, "Your a terrible terrible person, Talan Hawke. You know that right? Picking on a defenceless old lady."  
  
"I can pick the defenceless old lady up and fling her over my shoulder," he grinned wide, "then what would you do, hmm?"  
  
"You wouldn't dare!"  
  
Talan grinned even wider, showing his little sharp teeth off at her face, "I would. But anyway, mothers standing outside the door," he snickers pointing at his mother chomping at the bit right outside the mansion's doors.  
  
She spots him first waving her hand, then stops when she spots Revar, putting a hand over her mouth her eyes going wide and watery the closer they got. She then runs out the courtyard, her skirts held in her free hand the other still over her mouth before she crashes into Revar, wrapping her arms around the other woman, "Maker, look at you. Your so big now!"  
  
"Good grief. And here I thought your sister was bad enough," Revar chuckles.  
  
*******************  
  
Dinner was full of laughter and stories. Ones he's never heard of being regaled about father, about Ser Maurevar too. Mother was so damned happy that a Carver was still alive in Kirkwall, that she was, specifically.  
  
He got to hear about the first time his mother met Revar when she was actually three, that she was all arms and legs at that age. Much like himself really. He still felt all arms and legs when he looks at himself in the mirror. Bloody hell, he's only just hit twenty one for fucks sake, and he still felt gangly. Even though his frame said otherwise. Typical Qunari frame when he first saw his kind in Lothering. Then again here with the Arishok.  
  
He was shorter then them by several inches but still towered over everyone else. Arse, he was only six nine for fucks sake to the other Qunari's seven two height. He felt gangly, a brick wall gangly.  
  
But still, if Revi took after her father, he must of been nearly as tall as Anders too. Was he from the Anderfels too? He'd have to ask her when mother stops needling her with questions.  
  
Bloody hell, she just wouldn't stop from the moment Revi stepped foot in the mansion to what? Talan looks over at the mantle-shelf clock and rolls his eyes. Five hours later.  
  
"Mother," he coughs then smiles sweetly at her, "maybe I should show Revi around the mansion."  
  
"What a splendid idea, dear. Oh," his mother looks at the clock and blushes profusely, "I think I talked the entire time away. Maker, whatever you must think of me, Revar."  
  
Revi just smiled just a sweetly as he did, "Bethany does the same thing, Leandra. Some days she'd talk my ear off. I don't mind it."  
  
And so his mother blushes again when she 'Retires' to bed, leaving them both sitting there in the library, before they both burst out laughing.  
  
"I think my bum had an earache, Talan. Good grief, I see where Bethy gets it from now," Revi smiles at him.  
  
"She's been like that since dad and Garrett died. And with Carver dead and Bethany in the Gallows, I think she misses talking to someone else other then me," he shrugged, "I am the bloody baby after all."  
  
"Oh no, I get it, I get it. I really do. I didn't speak much to anyone in the Gallows myself while I trained. I don't mind the ear and bum ache, but sodding hell," Revi slumped down in the plush chair, "I think I almost said my entire life in five hours. I don't think she was even getting started."  
  
Well, she wasn't wrong there. She didn't even touch the whole, 'father slept with a Qunari and produced him' thing. Which he was a little sad about to be honest. Talan sighed reaching over to his tankard of mead, nobody really wanted to know about 'him' him, they just wanted to know why he looked human but had fucking horns. Then try and get into his pants because he looked different. Like most of his damn friends tried to do with him.  
  
"So, tell me about this bloody pirate thats been trying to get into my smalls? Maker, she wont take no for an answer."  
  
Talan wrinkled his nose up while he gulped down the entire tankard, "She's like that. Will always be like that, except with me. She HATES me, and thank everything for that."  
  
"Yeah well, I don't like it. Everyone else is fine, except for her. She's shifty, Talan. More shifty then the damn Carta," Revi scoffed, "And why in the Makers name does she hate you if she's friends with you?"  
  
"She hates Qunari," Talan said flatly looking into the now empty thing, "She wanted my help years ago then blatantly ignores me, until she needs something. Or wants Varric to read her stupid fan fiction rubbish. Or pesters Anders to 'Loosen the stick up his arse and fuck her again, for old times sake.' Ugh."  
  
Revi frowned at him when he looks up at her, "Well thats just plain rude, if you tell me. Should of told her to piss off, where she could stick Anders, um, stick."  
  
"Like I give a shit," he mumbles out, looking down in his lap.  
  
"Well I do," Revi said quietly to him, making him look back up at her again, "I guess thats just me. I've always looked after people who others hated or despised for what they are. How they were born. Who they were born to. It just pisses me off, thats all."  
  
He felt his face heat up when he looks away. He felt his insides do that odd, weird thing like it did back in Lothering with Peaches when he first saw her. Who then ignored him to be with Garrett. Well, truth be told he was just fourteen, and Garrett was much much older then him. But still, it did the flips when he slowly looks back at her, his face still felt heated when he smiles.  
  
"Not many people would be like that for me. All they see is something to be feared or I'm a curiosity. Or have my friends practically throw themselves at me for... buggered if I know. Sex? I suppose?" Talan sighed miserably when he slumped further down in the chair, his tankard dropping to the floor while he closed his eyes.  
  
"Makers breath, seriously? Well I can tell you right now, I'm not afraid of you, nor do I find you a curiosity. As much as I don't fear Anders and Justice. In-fact," Revi smiled at him when he slowly opens his eyes, "I actually like that your different, that their different, that everyones bloody well different. Can you imagine if we were all the same? Maker, BORING!"  
  
Talan felt his cheeks flush again, and coughed behind his hand when he righted himself in his seat, "I guess thats true. Revi," he chewed his lip before he spoke again, "Wheres your father from? Because theres no way your height came from the Marches."  
  
"Father was born here, grandfather was from the Anderfels. A fearlessly devout man of the Maker and his bride. He wanted father to be a grey warden, from what I heard. But became a Templar instead, to protect when he saw the abuse of a young mage boy," Revi rubbed her temple before continuing, "But yeah, I have Anderfels running through me, as much as fucking lyrium. Mother, was a Ferelden, sent here many many years ago from Denerim I think. She was a mage till they, till I-"  
  
Talan got up from his chair and knelt down as best he could in-front of Revi, "You don't have to say it," he muttered putting his large hand on her arm.  
  
"Yeah, not the best of times," she smiles watery at him, then shakes her head, "What about your mother? Do you know her?"  
  
"No, I never did," Talan sighed, "Just, dad got her pregnant barely after Bethany and Carver were born. She never wanted me, so, she just gave me up to dad and Leandra. She gave me a name at least," he sort of smiled and fell flat squeezing Revi's arm, "Talan, means truth in Qunlat. Or so dad told me when she told him. Could mean chicken and rice all I know."  
  
Revi chuckled at him, running a hand over one of his odd shaped broken horns, "Chicken and rice Hawke. Doesn't have a good ring to it as Talan Hawke does. Sorry she never wanted you, but I'm glad Leandra is a mother instead. She loves you, I can see that."  
  
Talan sighed in contentment the more she run her fingers on his horn. Nobodies done this to him in years, and damn did it feel good when he rests his head on her thigh. Maybe... he shouldn't be doing this, but he didn't want it to stop, didn't want her to go when he takes her other hand to put it on his other horn. She chuckled at that and complied. He was just to damned content right now to even care what was going through his mind.  
  
*******************  
  
Fenris accosted him when he left the mansion to go to Lowtown. The elf just glared up at him, and motioned with his head to follow the surly man. Why, why did everyone around him want him to do what THEY want, and when he does it, they refute him? Or want in his pants. Fuck this shit.  
  
"Fen, I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell you want."  
  
Talan stood there defiantly folding his arms over his large chest, looking down at the man glaring more at him now.  
  
"Fine," Fenris huffed and folded his own arms over his chest, "Did I see Revar here the other day?"  
  
"Yes. What business it is of yours if she was?"  
  
"Was she here about Bethany, the Templars... or for you?" Ahhh, there was the green eyed monster looking up at him. Fenris was jealous.  
  
Talan wrinkled his nose up and shook his head, "And what fucking right do you have to ask me, huh? It's none of your business, Fen. You wanna be jealous, then go piss off. I already told you no, so stop hounding me like a lost fucking mabari, okay!"  
  
Bloody hell, he's just about had it with everyone hounding him, when he turns his back on the elf and heads off in the direction of Lowtown. Every damned one of the people he's made friends with over the past few years want him, but yet, they don't actually want him at all. They just want, what was it mother said? Oh yeah, they want security NOT what he has to offer, which quite frankly, was just the stupid mansion and the money, nothing else.  
  
He's twenty bloody one for fucks sake, what do they all think they can get from him?  
  
Bad enough he's been running around this poxy city like a lap dog, doing this that and everything else in between for these people who just end up sneering at him in the end. If he believed in the bloody Maker, he'd be cursing the mans name.  
  
Bah, he doesn't know shit about Qunari crap either. He did have Fenris start to teach him, but fuck if that didn't make it awkward especially after the whole Hadriana and Merrill thing. No, fuck being a Qunari, he was a damn half-breed and proud of it. He didn't need to know any of that at all, like he didn't need to know about the stupid sodding Maker.  
  
Talan frowns when he gets to the bottom of the Lowtown/Hightown steps at Sebastian, waving his arms at Revi in the middle of the market. Now what was going on?  
  
"You cannot just abandon the order, you have to do something about him, Ser Carver!"  
  
She just glared down at the man, "Makers arse, you don't get to tell me what to do, prince."  
  
"He's a danger to himself and everyone else around him. And then theres Merrill," Sebastian spat at her.  
  
Oh, that did it. Talan charged down through the market and pinned Sebastian against the wall, "You stay away from them, understand. You even breath their names, and I'll put you under. You even THINK about them, and I'll put you under."  
  
"Do not threaten a member of the chantry, Hawke. I'm not afraid of you," Sebastian tried to stick his chest out in defiance, "They are a danger and you know it."  
  
"Oh put a bloody sock in it, Sebastian, and go home. I can hear Starkhaven calling for you," Revi laughed right next to them, "Their saying, 'Our village idiot is missing. Whatever shall we do?'"  
  
"Ser Carver, you just cannot abandon the order! YOU CANNOT!"  
  
Revi taps his shoulder, and he nods letting the man away from the wall, "Guess what, I'm still not going to do a damn thing you say. How's them apples. Go home village idiot, seriously."  
  
Sebastian goes bright red again and scarpers off up to Hightown, like the lap dog he was. Suckling Elthina's tits, Talan chuckles to himself.  
  
"Makers fucking balls, I wish he did just go home. Thanks for that by the way," Revi rolls her eyes, "He's been hounding me since I just showed up without my armour on. Ugh, creepy smug little chantry shit."  
  
"Just helping the defenceless old lady from the nasty chantry brother," Talan smirks at her.  
  
"Oh, don't start you cheeky little shit!"  
  
Talan bursts out laughing taking hold of her arm, practically dragging her to the Hanged Man, "Little? LITTLE! I'm hardly little, Templar. I mean, have you seen me? Hello."  
  
"No, really? I would never of guessed," Revi bumped his arm, "You know exactly what I mean. And why pray tell are you dragging me this way? I was going to go to the clinic for- well I need Anders help with a problem."  
  
"What problem?" Talan stopped them both and looked into her face when she grimaced.  
  
"A, um, lyrium problem," she whispers, "I really need to go."  
  
Talan frowned at her, tilting his head to one side, "If you need it, Varric can probably help you out, Revi. He has a lot of connections around this city."  
  
She blushed, biting her lip when she turned her head away, "It's not just that," she whispers again, "Well, besides the whole being an addict thing. It, um, well... kinda sings to me and so does Justice. Forget I said anything."  
  
He took a step back from Revi, looking into her face again when she blushes bright red. Okay, what does any of that even mean that it sings to her. Even Justice? Does she, fancy both of them or what? Why did that make his insides bunch up something rotten?  
  
He just nodded his head, "Sorry, I, just thought you could do with a drink after all that. I wont keep you." AND there goes his insides bunching again.  
  
"Maybe later, yeah," she smiles at him, "And thank you."  
  
Talan watches her walk away from him, and lowers his head a little when he turns to go get a drink. Sweet shit, what was going on with him?

* * *

 

**Five.**  
  
"Maferath's balls, Mercy. What are you wearing?"  
  
Revar cocks her head at the dwarf, then smirks, "My new armour. Like it," and gives him a twirl.  
  
"It's Templar armour, Revar," Fenris drolly said out.  
  
"Yes, but not. See look," she points to her chest at the sword emblazoned there, "Thats the stupid sword of mercy, right, but the rest of the armour, I hodgepodged together. Maker, you have no idea how much I could get from the black-market. Well Varric does, but you don't."  
  
"It's still Templar armour, Revar."  
  
She rolled her eyes when she sat down, putting her new helm on the table and nods to Talan, "He's a bit, cynical, ain't he."  
  
"You have no idea. Oh Revi, that reminds me, mother asked for you again. Sooo, could you come by sometime this week. Please," Talan practically begged her.  
  
It has been a month since she's seen the woman, and well, she could do with a good ear wagging. Revar nodded her head, to which Talan grinned wide at. Maker, she felt a little guilty she hasn't seen either of them much this past month, but she had her reasons. Like, a HUGE damn reason that was sitting in her backpack by her feet. The sweet song crescendoing in her ears the more it sat there.  
  
Like the sweet sweet crescendo that Justice was when she went to see Anders. Maker, she should never of said anything to Talan that she heard both lyrium and the spirit sing. It was her madness to bear, not his.  
  
And there was the taste on her tongue as said man with spirit comes into the room. Rolling down her throat like sweet nectar, shimmying over her skin like silk.  
  
"Andraste's pert tits. Why you in Templar armour again, Revi?"  
  
She sighs when he glares at her, "It's not- Oh, just forget it," she slumps down in her seat.  
  
Anders glares at her even more when he takes his seat next to Talan, and slowly, ever so slowly shakes his head in disapproval at her, "And here I thought I was finally getting through to you."  
  
"Getting through- Excuse me, Serah 'I must write this stupid manifesto like it's my life.' You do know she's not going to read that garbage, right?"  
  
"Garbage? I have you know... wait a minute, thats not what you said the other day," Anders narrowed his eyes at her, "Oh, I hate you so much right now, it's not even funny."  
  
Revar burst out laughing, slapping her hand on the table, "The look on your face was so worth it. And Maker, shut up, this is NOT official Templar armour. It's my armour, and I'm going to wear it proudly."  
  
"Yes well, Justice thinks your being bloody foolish wearing it," he smirks.  
  
"No, you do. I think he'd approve of me sticking my fingers up at those bastards. You just don't like the fact I look better in it then you would," she grins.  
  
"Hate. You. So. Much," Anders grinds out then blows a raspberry, "Both of you!"  
  
Fenris thrums his spiked fingers on the table, grabbing everyones attention, "Hawke, why are we here?"  
  
Talan heaved a small sigh, "Its Feynriel. His mothers beside her self with worry. He's slipped into a deep sleep and can't be woken up, and well," he sighs again looking directly at Fenris then to herself, "we're going to help him out in the fade."  
  
The elf got up out of his chair and slammed the door behind him when he left.  
  
"I guess thats a no then."  
  
"I never said no. Wait, did you say Feynriel? I think Thrask spoke about him a few years back. Said he went to the Dalish. Maker, that was you, wasn't it?"  
  
Talan blushed a little nodding his head, "Yeah, it was. Sent him to Merrill's old clan to help him, you know. Guess it didn't help much. And, well, with you being a Templar, I thought, well you could come and help, in-case there are demons. And of course those two," he thumbed to Anders.  
  
"I'd be honoured to join you in this. If the boy is plagued by demons, I think I can help with that," she smiles at him then turns her head to Anders, "If, thats amicable to both of you that is. I wont do anything to harm Feynriel, but if he is plagued, then, Maker help him."  
  
"Good, Justice approves that your willing to come and help, Revi. Though, I haven't been back in the fade with Justice in tow. I have no idea whats going to happen."  
  
Revar, has never been in the fade properly at all. Yes she dreams as much as everyone else, but has never traversed it's planes like the mages do. She in all honesty was a little worried about doing this. What if something were to go wrong? What if she had to kill the boy because he let a demon in his body? Would anyone forgive her for that, she didn't think so when everyone rose from their seats to go.  
  
She'll leave her backpack here for the time being, but her helmet, Maker, she was going to need it.  
  
"Down in the Alienage, Hawke?" Varric asked as they step foot outside the tavern.  
  
"Yeah, Keeper Marethari should be arriving soon too. She's the one going to send us in," Talan then ran a hand down his face, "You do know I've never actually been in the fade, not really. I dream, yeah, but not... fuck."  
  
Anders just took his arm when they all set off down to the Alienage, "It'll be fine, Hawke. You've got me, Justice, Varric and all high and mighty Templar to protect you."  
  
Revar just huffed and kicked his backside when he skipped ahead, snickering over his shoulder at her. Maker take the most annoying feather loving mage she has ever known.  
  
She also could feel eyes burn the back of her head as they walked through Lowtown. Could feel them all judging her for the armour she now wore, and once wore. She was no stranger to most of these people at all, but still, they put her in the same mold as every other damned Templar there is. Much like Anders does sometimes. He very rarely opened up to her, all because she was, and still is, a piece of Templar shit.  
  
Nothing is ever easy. Never will be. Never, ever would be. She was in a mold she couldn't break any more.  
  
Revar sighed internally, walking down the Alienage steeps steps, the rest of them were talking quietly behind her. She wished to everything people would see her, for her, and not what she is and was. Little do anyone know, she cries every night in her pillow. She weeps not only for the mages stuck behind those callous walls, but she weeps because she hurt. She hurt every damn day, and not because of the lyrium either.  
  
Revar now understands how her father felt before he died.  
  
"Oh thank the creators, Hawke. Marethari will be- Why is there a Templar here?" this small elven woman spat at her.  
  
In-fact, all the elves in the Alienage were looking directly at her, a sneer on all their lips. Maker, this was a bad idea.  
  
"She's with us, Arianni," Talan spoke softly to her, "She's a family friend, and our friend too. I asked her to come, and she wants to protect Feynriel as much as we do."  
  
The woman, Arianni, glared up at her then looked over her armour, "Still a poxy Templar, Hawke. I wont let her anywhere near him."  
  
Revar heaved a sigh and stepped back, "Then I will bid my leave. I came to aid, to help, but if it will assuage your fears, then I shall leave."  
  
"No Revar, stay. Arianni," Talan knelt down to the small elven woman, "Please, Revar wont hurt him I promise. None of us will. We want him to be safe from harm, and she wont let him come to any, I promise you that."  
  
Arianni wrinkled her nose up when she looked back up at her, "Revar, is it? Remove your damn helmet, so I can see the face of the woman who's going to kill my boy."  
  
Revar stepped back again at that, taking her helm of as quickly as she could, her brown hair tumbling down her back, "Maker have mercy, I would never! I'm not that kind of Templar. I took care of my charges, I was friends with Talan's sister. I've left the order, but I haven't left my duty in protecting mages."  
  
"I know your face. I've seen you here before.... creators, your the one who brought back young Devon!"  
  
Revar dipped her head, "Yes I was. That, was a long time ago."  
  
Arianni walked slowly over to her, then took her hand in-between hers, "He's alive because of you. He has a family now, because of you. I will allow you to help my son. Save him, please."  
  
"I, we, will do all we can to save him," Revar dipped her head again to her, then looked around the Alienage at the other elves. Some still had their lips curled up, but others, had left to go about their business again. Same ole same ole.  
  
Her mind started to spin, twist and turn when Arianni went back to Talan and Varric. She felt like she was drowning in a sea of thoughts. Maybe it was because she hasn't been taking her lyrium dose as much now, maybe it was because she had a rough night. But the taste of ambrosia danced across her tongue, when an arm went around her shoulder and pulled her close to the man who was a vessel to a spirit of Justice. It almost calmed her mind when she was pulled away from everyone talking.  
  
"So, you brought a mage back home?" Anders asked her quietly in her ear, "You never said anything about that."  
  
Revar shrugged under his arm, "Was a long time ago, Jester. I was about eighteen I think, he was a few years younger and, and," she sucked in a deep breath trying not to remember, but it flooded her mind when she continued, "they never left him alone. Was the first time I saw them abuse someone. I was sick everywhere when I ran to get help. I was sick in the old Knight-Captain's office when I told him. But he just waved me off and told me to see a healer. Told me I was seeing things, that I needed rest after my vigil."  
  
"And what did you do," he murmured in her ear, the deep rumble of Justice was behind his voice, sending sparks across her skin and mind. Setting it on fire, setting her whole on fire when he spoke again, "How long did it take for you to dispense justice on them all?"  
  
The song crescendoed in her ears, making her knees feel weak while he gripped her shoulder tighter, "A few days. He, he was my first charge I got out. He, he was never the last, never would be, never will be."  
  
"What did you do to those who harmed the boy?"  
  
"I killed them," she whispered out, "I killed the two of them while we were on patrol. I, I left their bodies to the gulls to feast upon."  
  
Anders, or Justice smirked against the side of her face, "And they would not be the first whom you have killed, were they not. They will not be the last, either."  
  
"No," she whispers again closing her eyes.  
  
Nothing else was said when he lets go of her shoulder and walks away. Nothing else was mentioned when he stood by Talan and Varric to join the conversation, leaving her standing there with her mind spinning again. She didn't know what to think when another elf slowly made her way down the steep steps of the Alienage, the other elves around coming to see in awe.  
  
But Revar wasn't. She was too lost in her own mind to even realise what was going to happen next.  
  
*******************  
  
It was loud, everything was loud laying on the floor in the womans home. The lyrium sang in her ears as loud as a fly buzzing next to it. The cascading crescendo wrapped and ripped through her body, over her tongue, worming its way into her mind.  
  
It was almost too much and they haven't even begun the ritual yet.  
  
Talan was sitting with Varric, the dwarf shook madly talking a mile a minute to his friend. Anders was sitting next to her, reading a book while they waited for Marethari to add the final touches to this ritual.  
  
But she laid on the floor with her eyes looking up at the hole filled ceiling, trying hard not to put her hands over her ears to drown out the noise. It wouldn't of helped anyway, she still would of hear the deafening sound. It still would of filled her entire being, regardless.  
  
It wasn't just the sound of the lyrium, it was the sound of her mind working overtime, trying to comprehend everything thats about to happen. Maker, its like being in your own Harrowing, and your not even a mage. Is this what it feels like to them? Bethany never said. None of them ever said, other then it was a Harrowing experience. All Revar knew was they put mages not ready enough into it, and to sever the heads from their necks if they took too long.  
  
She's never done that, throwing her blade on the ground and walking out when she was forced too once. They never allowed her back into the chamber after that, but Maker, she wanted to try and save the ones who did go through those heavy doors.  
  
But the sound, the song, the ringing was getting louder and louder the more this went on. Everyone was laying down now, the ritual starting, the sound like crashing waves right inside her skull made her grit her teeth hard. She was sure she was going to have a nose bleed. She was sure she was going to end up screaming because it was deafening.  
  
A hand touched hers briefly making Revar flinch hard, feeling the spirit near the surface of Anders skin against hers.  
  
Oh, Maker, it was too much, its all too much, she couldn't take any more when she threw her head back and screamed.  
  
*******************  
  
"It is good to feel the breath of the fade again, not the empty air of your world."  
  
Who said that?  
  
"Justice?"  
  
I know that voice too.  
  
"Yes. We should not tarry, the boy is in grave danger. There are many demons eager to posses him nearby."  
  
"Maferath's balls, is that what you look like?"  
  
Varric, I know him as well.  
  
"It is indeed. Anders thought it would be prudent I were here and not him."  
  
Justice.  
  
Talan.  
  
Varric.  
  
But who am I?  
  
"Wait, wheres Revi?"  
  
"Shit, I don't see her anywhere. Justice, er, do you?"  
  
"I, do not. She cannot be too far. Where are we? I do not recognise this place."  
  
A voice that I think is my own speaks, "We're in the Gallows. The Templar halls to be exact."  
  
Was that me? Everything is so loud here. I can barely see where I am, let alone know who I am. It's, it's so green. Am, I real?  
  
"Revi. Where are you?"  
  
"I, I don't know. I hear you but I don't see you. Why can't I see?"  
  
I think I move, but I can't be too sure. My body feels heavy and loud, my mind swims and aches with a longing I can't comprehend. I, feel something nearby, but is it me? Is it the voices I know, I'm not certain. I don't even know if I'm real right now.  
  
Something soft and warm touches my skin, I feel like flinching away from it. But it does it again. A soft warm whisper of words I don't know skim over me like warm water, "Open your eyes, child."  
  
Maker, is that why I can't see, my stupid eyes are shut? No, no, their open, I know that, but all I see is green, all I see is nothing. But I know where I am by the sounds. The Templar hall, the place I know far too well. Why are we here of all places? Why was the boy here?  
  
"Revi, stay where you are! Justice is coming to get you. Shit."  
  
Why was the spirit coming to get me? Why weren't they going to find Feynriel?  
  
"She is safe. She will not come to harm. It's fine young warrior, I will guide her."  
  
"Who, who said that?" I ask and feel the warm soft touch on my face again.  
  
"Go find the boy. I will deal with this, Hawke," Justice's voice sounded close now, but it sounded so far away. Everything was crescendoing, but yet, it was silent.  
  
I want to be scared, but I'm not. I want to be frightened, but I feel no fear. I feel, what exactly do I feel?  
  
"You are strong, child. You are far stronger then the mage child here. I can help you, guide you Templar, to what you desire."  
  
Oh sweet fuck! That, no, it can't be a damned demon trying to-  
  
"Leave me alone. I'm not interested," I hear my voice mutter out.  
  
"You will leave her be, Caress. She is not yours to be toyed with!"  
  
The soft warm hand goes over my cheek again, the warm voices chuckles like sex in my ear, "Oh, do be off now, Justice. Can't you see I'm helping the Templar. She is very strong, you felt it too when you touched her. Oh, I know you have. Maybe she desires you, is that what your thinking? Would you like to posses such a stronger mortal then that ungrateful mage you inhabit?"  
  
Silence stretched thin, a little too thin and long as I think I stood there. I feel cold, am I naked? Wheres my armour?  
  
"I did not posses him, Caress. He saved my life, which you are not doing to her. Now leave her alone lest I see you sent to the void!"  
  
Something wrapped around my waist and squeezed tight, the hand stroked my face again going through tears I didn't know where falling from my eyes. I want to scream when lips where pressed against my cheek and the chuckle like sex sound in my ears. "What good would that do now, dear Justice? Just leave us alone and go your merry way while we leave. She will have me beside her, instead of some sorry moth eaten child of a spirit. Go back your your pitiful mage then, Justice, I have my prize."  
  
I choke out a sound thats strangled when the thing around my waist tightens, stealing the breath from my lungs when I try and speak. "I, want nothing from you," I rasp though my lips, "I will never be yours. Leave me alone!"  
  
"Your already mine," the voice hisses before a wet tongue goes over my face, gripping me hard from every direction. I think I scream, but I can't be sure. Makers arse, I don't know whats happening to me.  
  
I hear a rage filled shout, the tightening feel drops away sending me to my knees. I still don't know how I feel, when the sound of a fight happens right next to me, the taste of lyrium rolls down my throat. No, not lyrium, the taste of something else. The fade perhaps? Yes, thats what it was, the fade skimmed across my tongue, over my skin, the sound less loud in my ears now. I begin to see again.  
  
I begin to see two figures fighting near me, a purple being with horns and flames, a being of blue armour fighting it. I want to look away when it comes into focus more, but I can't, I kneel there watching these two things fight each other. The blue being who could only be Justice slices the purple ones tail from its body, making it scream in agony lashing out with its claws.  
  
Makers breath, is that was a desire demon looks like? It was neither male nor female, it was, neither. The one thats Justice was as big as Talan, but not as wide as him, holding a sword and shield taking the demon down.  
  
Another rage filled yell echos through my body, when Justice cleaves the demon in two with a wide sweep of his sword. And I'm filled with righteousness when I watch him do so. I'm filled with burning light when I try and stand. It, is, beautiful, when I look at him. The chains of whatever kept me down lifted from my shoulders, and I want to weep with joy. I want to laugh and dance, but I don't.  
  
"It would of taken you, Revar, regardless of how strong you are. Caress was a strong demon of desire who would of taken the mage child as well."  
  
I swallow loudly as Justice came closer, sheathing his weapons away. The armour he wore come into focus even more now, it looked silverite in nature, and glinted in the green light around me. His helm was slotted, but yet, I could see two very pale blue eyes look through them at me. He filled my soul entirely with justification and loyalty, more then I have ever felt before when he took my hand into his gauntleted one.  
  
I look down at them, my hand in his, and I want to cry at the feeling. I was not naked either, I still wore my armour, but that thing made me feel that way.  
  
"Why me?" I whisper out to him, slowly lifting my head to the helmed being.  
  
"I believe it wanted you for your desire to see all mages and elves treated fairly. It is strong, even to me, how just and righteous you can be. It burns as bright as the sun from within you, Revar."  
  
My mind span, a demon wanted to posses me, just like the one who wanted to posses Keran. Like how Wilmod was possessed by a demon from that Tarohne bitch.  
  
I shake my head at him, "Maybe it's because my mother was a mage, that I can hear lyrium and you, that it thought it could do that to me? Why, it wouldn't of gained anything from me, nothing would."  
  
Justice released my hands and stepped back, "Caress would of gained a strong Templar. One whom imbibes lyrium still, and be that much strong for it. You would of gained the strength of that fiend and become something far worse. Not a pleasant thought, Revar."  
  
"What about a spirit?" I ask him, only to have him step back again shaking his head at me.  
  
"I would not know what would happen. It maybe too much for one, or it maybe just enough," he said quietly, "We should go find the others. There is another powerful demon eager to take the young mage."  
  
He walked away from me, leaving me standing there. I now had more questions then answers going through me.  
  
"Justice wait!"  
  
He stops in his tracks and lowers his head slightly, looking over his shoulder, "If you are going to ask whether I hear the song of lyrium, I do. I hear it in you as much as I hear it in the elf lined with it. His, is broken, yours is not. I do not know what would happen if a spirit were to join with one such as you," Justice sighed, looking forward again, "but I do know Anders requires less lyrium now then he did before with my help."  
  
"I see," I murmur out looking down at the fade ground of the Halls, "Just makes me wonder if a spirit can do the same job as lyrium. Maybe I wouldn't have to take the damn cursed stuff, poisoning my mind. Maker, I don't want to be a drooling simpleton in years to come," I really didn't, "Suffer withdrawals when I finally stop. No, forget I said anything."  
  
"Why do you ask?" he turned around fully to face me again, "Is that what you want? Is that why that fiend wanted to posses you, so you no longer have to be what you are?"  
  
I just shake my head as I shrug, "We need to go find the others. Please, just forget I said anything."  
  
Justice stands there a few moments longer before he nods once, then turns swiftly walking away. Why did I even bring that up? Why did I even say anything? Maker, I'm such a mess right now, and he sees it, he saw it, and he saved me from it. But why did that make me feel empty?  
  
By the time we find Talan and Varric again, they were standing talking to a young man. They saved him from the other demon while Justice saved me from that Caress one. I just want to wake up now, I want... Maker I don't know what I want any more.

* * *

  
**Six.**  
  
Talan finds Revi sitting alone in his library, mother obviously left her sitting there, but shit, she looked sad.  
  
"Hey you," he smiles out at her, then frowns when she doesn't look up, "Whats wrong?"  
  
"Sorry, just, thinking thats all."  
  
Talan frowns even more pulling up a chair to sit next to her, "Is it about Feynriel going to Tevinter? He already sent a message back a week ago saying he was fine traveling up there."  
  
Revi shook her head, "No, no, I'm fine with that. Like I'm fine with Merrill being the way she is. I, I'm just- Maker, I don't even know any more."  
  
"I know how you feel. Shit, you know I had to run after Emeric only to find he was dead earlier. Killed by some shades in some back ally," he wrinkled his nose up, "All because of this damned Lowtown butcher."  
  
"Why in the Makers name are you running around doing a Templars job, Talan? Good fucking grief, I could of helped out with that!"  
  
She was right, why WAS he doing the damned job of the Templars in the damned city? Why was he still running around after people, doing their dirty work? He, didn't exactly have an answer when he shrugs himself then takes her hand in his larger one. Shit, did he like doing that with her. More so then holding Merrill's hand, more so then when Anders took his hand once. Mother told him he was in love with her, but he didn't think so. Maybe, he was, a little.  
  
Okay, he was lying to himself here. He felt giddy every-time she was near. And hurt when she was with Anders. His stomach would always do somersaults when she said yes to coming to the mansion.  
  
"Shit, so Emeric's dead. Was it that Gaspard man?"  
  
"No, we, er, killed him before we found Emeric. Fuck, he was a blood mage, Revi, like a bad one. Anders and Justice flipped their lid when we, um, kinda broke into his mansion," he smiled then let it go, gripping her hand tighter, "Aveline was with us, she kinda suggested we kill him so the Templars wouldn't, you know."  
  
Revi nodded, then did something he wasn't expecting at all. She just rested her head on his arm, her loose brown hair gently tickling it as it slid down. Talan could feel his cheeks heat up again at it, feel the fingers on his other hand twitch, itching to run them through her hair. He, wanted to do other things too, but reigned it in chewing on his bottom lip instead.  
  
"You know," he coughed before continuing, "you never did say what that demon wanted with you when we saved Feynriel."  
  
Revi shuddered a bit on his arm, "It, just wanted me. Justice saved me before it, well, could take me. Maker," she lifted her head up then looked at him with her green eyes, "I don't want to think about it right now. I'm fine, by the way, just, have a lot of other things on my mind, thats all."  
  
"You can talk to me, you know."  
  
She smiled at him before laying her head back down on his arm, squeezing his hand again, "I know. I miss talking to Bethany, though I do like having my ear talked off by your mother,"she chuckled, "and that Sandal boy. Ahh, he's so sweet and so is Orana. Though I keep telling her not to call me mistress, weirds me out."  
  
"She was a slave, Revi. We saved her from one of Fenris's former abusers," Ugh, she was a vile thing. Killing all of her slaves just so she could take Fenris down, bring him back to his filth of a master.  
  
"Oh I know. We had former slaves in the Gallows too, when they escaped only to live in worse conditions. Fuck that noise," Revi lifted her head once more, "Had a Saarebas in there too once, before he vanished into thin air. That, was around the time the Arishok and his Qunari landed in Kirkwall after the massive storm."  
  
Talan wondered if that same Saarebas was Ketojan, then shook his head. He highly doubted that, seeing as the damned chained thing was now dead when he killed himself. What a waste that was.  
  
"Seems this city has a LOT of things washing up on its shores," he chuckled out at her.  
  
"Yeah it does. Not always pleasant things either. Though, you washed up, so it ain't all bad."  
  
Talan barked a laugh at her, nudging her with his arm, "Fuck you. I'll have you know, I arrived on a boat, crammed into the hull like sardines, but I came on a boat."  
  
"Chicken and rice Hawke, you ARE the boat!"  
  
"Oh really," he smirked slowly letting her hand go, "I'm a boat now? First I was little, now I'm a boat!"  
  
Talan dipped his head low and smirked even more before he pounced, sending them both sprawling on the floor. The chair she was sitting it bounced on the ground as he grinned down in her face, Revi struggling while she laughed being pinned under him.  
  
"Makers fucking balls!" she laughed again trying to wriggle free, "Arse."  
  
"Mmm, hmm. Shall I unfurl my sails? Weigh my anchor? Perhaps," he licked his lips and grinned, "I'll port in the dock from the high storms."  
  
Revi stopped wringing, raising her eyebrows at him, "What in the Makers- Has that pirate been teaching you this, this... what ever this is," she chuckled as she grinned.  
  
"Not making you all hot and bothered yet, is it," he snickered.  
  
"Andraste's dimpled arse, no. It's just making me want to get out from under you and clobber that fucking pirate!"  
  
Talan mock sighed, "Damn. So no warm waters? No, rising tides-"  
  
"Maker, please stop. Seriously, just-" Revi burst out laughing, and did that ever feel good. Her breasts pushed hard against his chest, making his bloody heart pound like a wardrum in his ribcage. Talan's breathing got a little harsher when he lent down more to her face, and pressed his lips against her laughing mouth. He has never fallen so hard for someone as he has for her.  
  
Revi flinched under him, her fingers twitched on his arms, her body and mouth tightened. 'I just made a huge fucking mistake', he thinks when he pulls back, 'Fuck.'  
  
"Talan," she asks him quietly, "What are you doing?"  
  
He swallowed looking into her eyes, "I, wanted to kiss you," he says out sheepishly, feeling the heat race across his face and down his chest.  
  
"I know that, I was just there for it," Revi softly giggled, "I mean, are you sure?"  
  
"That I think I've fallen in love with you? Yeah, I'm sure."  
  
She swallowed this time tilting her head away, "I've, I've taken a vow of chastity, Talan. I've never- no-one- never- Maker, shut up Revar."  
  
He couldn't help himself bending down again, pressing his lips gently on the side of her neck. His breath felt on fire speaking against it, "I've only ever once with someone. Your not a fucking Templar any more," his tongue ran up her neck to her ear, "And your beautiful."  
  
Revi melted under him when he licked the shell of her ear, tugging on it gently with his teeth before pressing light kisses to her mouth. Desire rolled through him licking over her lips, desire and want flooded his core licking his way into her pliant mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnd... the fade to blackish things goes on, lol  
> Honestly, I liked where this one was going but forgot all about it until recently :/  
> Doubt I'll ever go back and deal with this again.


	6. Leather And Fade.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Talan' was in the wrong place, at the wrong time, trying not to die. Danny was trying to kill herself, so she didn't have to deal with her own and everyone else's bullshit any more. One got a piece of home stuck in their hand, the other got some really sweet tattoos. Ones from this plane of existence, the other... doesn't even know what the fucks going on half the time.
> 
> Pah, Talan isn't even his name for the love of everything. Surrounded by all these, ugh, 'people' who would not just shut up! Eh, least he wasn't alone in this place he really had no desire (Snorts) to be in. The odd woman was in the same position he was in, sort of. At least she wasn't some Herald unlike him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning. Please heed** :  
> Attempted Suicide, Death of a sort, Death of other sorts, Blood and Blood loss.

**One - What a ta-do this all is.**  
  
Somewhere on Earth -  
  
Be this, be that. Fuck you, thats what I say. Yeah thats right, you heard me, fuck you life. I'm so done you hear me. I'm so done trying to live up to your so called standards, putting me in a box along with every other living soul out there. Like hell will I be normal, like hell will I be what the hell you want me to be.  
  
I'm ME! Who's gonna be a dead me in a minute or two, if this fucking... thing... stops... shaking.  
  
Dan dropped the blade on the ground, she just couldn't go through with it. She wanted to, by god did she want to. But no, everything just shook on her like strawberry jelly. Bad enough she wasn't even in her own home trying to kill herself. NO, she was in some shitty fucking dive looking motel trying to do it. The TV sounded like a bloody hammer in her head, she couldn't be bothered to turn it off.  
  
Ugh.  
  
The blade stared at her from the dingy looking carpet, mocking her as a coward. Taunting as it laid there glinting under the yellow light above. Dan sighed out loudly, kicking it well away from her booted foot. Maybe she'll just jump in-front of a car, no train, yeah, that'll be good too.  
  
Why? Why the hell does everything have to be so, convoluted? Because it bloody well is, thats what. Can't be what you want to be without some fucker saying you can't do that at all. Why? She didn't want to be who she was, never has done, its not right.  
  
Dan slowly slumped her shoulders, scuffing her booted feet on the carpet, eyeing the shiny blade on the other side of the room. If she can't be who she wants to be, then whats the point of even being who she doesn't want to be in the first place. None that she can see. None what-so ever. They all gave up on her a long time ago, she gave up on herself the moment he left her.  
  
No, theres no point anymore in anything.  
  
She got up off the edge of the bed walking swiftly to the blade, then held it firmly in her hand when she picked it up. There. Was. No. Point.  
  
Dan already bade her farewells mentally. Dad was already gone, mum was going to be fine with her brother, and she would be better off being motes of dust on the wind.  
  
The bed was soft when she laid down on it, even if it smelt like old socks. The blade still held firmly in her hand, her leather jacket and backpack under her head, Dan just pushed the edge into her wrist sliding it down. Blood slowly oozed out the wound when she did it again, not even caring that it fucking well hurt. She was too numb to even care. Blood just went everywhere trying to grab the knife with the slit wrist to do the other side.  
  
The fucking blade wouldn't take purchase, because she's doing it with her opposite hand, her blooded opposite hand. Dan cursed loudly just trying to stab it instead, gasping when it sunk in deep, then jaggedly see-sawed the blade down. She didn't even get half way when she lets it go, leaving it lodged in there as blood just oozed down onto the smelly sock bed, over her T-shirt and jeans.  
  
"Hello darkness my old friend," Dan whispered up into the ceiling into the crappy yellow light above, "I've come to join you in the end."  
  
Small tracks of tears rolled down her temples into her hair, the light above seemed to dim when she blinked the blurriness away. Time, seems to move at a snails pace laying there, the blood getting tacky on her skin. But she was cold, she felt cold and numb laying there. Her mind dipped in and out of consciousness, her own body shaking her awake every time her eyes slipped closed, cold seeping slowly up from her legs to her face.  
  
Why was this taking so long? Why the bloody hell was it taking so long to die?  
  
Dan winced when she coughed, she didn't think it would be this painful. Her mind dimmed again, slipping her bleary eyes closed, she just wanted to go to sleep now thank you very much. She was far too tired to keep anything open any more, and she was cold. And wet. And sticky. And the TV sounded like a distant helicopter buzzing around in her ears.  
  
Sleep... would be good. Very good. Even though she felt like she was falling through the air, sleep, was very very good.  
  
Goosebumps raced over her clammy skin, a strange feeling of warmth enveloped her, slowly drifting away into a place that shimmered with beautiful green light. She felt like she was being called.  
  
'Dad,' she barely thinks as she falls through nothingness, 'I'm coming...'  
  
*********************************  
  
At the same moment in Thedas -  
  
There was absolutely nothing to do. Nothing. No-one wanted him, no-one called, no-one had a desire for anything right now. Pah, he didn't like having nothing to do, even more so wandering around this so called 'Conclave,' eyeing all these mortals up who just wanted 'Peace.'  
  
His own kind wandered around as much as he was, some were Joy and Mercy, the occasional Faith and Compassion would float on in, then right on back out again. Mostly, there were Peace, Valor and Love standing there watching, waiting for something to happen. Desire rolled his eyes, he was bored.  
  
All of this was boring. His tail swished about in agitation waiting for something to happen. Seems like hours, well, he thought so. All of them on the edge of veil watching, but he was fucking bored. Maybe he'll go pester some random mortal, scare the living shit out of them, hoping they just at least give him some sort of desire... like going away?  
  
Ugh.  
  
"Whatever is the matter, Desire?"  
  
He scoffed, flapping his hand at the smaller spirit, "Bored, thats what. Nothings happening. NOTHING! How can this even be remotely entertaining to watch?"  
  
"Something is happening," Truth pointed over to a mortal in the stupid looking hat wandering away, "She brought them all together for talks. This isn't boring, Desire, this is history!"  
  
"Yes, right, sure," he rolled his eyes again, folding his arms over his chest, "History. Yippee! Its boring," Desire then pointed at nothing in the distance, "Bah, I think I'll go do something more interesting... like knitting!"  
  
He wandered away from Truth, the smaller spirit gave him a long suffering sigh when he wandered off too. Knitting would be most entertaining to do, shit, even playing with nugs and their creepy little feet would be far more entertaining then watching some random wrinkly mortal talk. He blew out a breath, which was far more mortal then he wanted it to be, and ended up being nosey throughout this Temple.  
  
Yeah, alright, this whole place had a very nice hum to it. Sung like home, which is why they were all drawn to this Temple in the first place. Desire had no desire (Snorts) to be here, but the song was far too nice to pass up. His tail wrapped around his thigh as usual, his feet barely skimming across the ground on the other side of the veil, looking over the walls, the banners strung up everywhere around him-  
  
Desire stopped when he smelt blood.  
  
He cocked his head to one-side as the smell got worse the closer he got to the back of this Temple. He licked his lips at the tang almost coveting the taste, letting it guide his whole being to the scent. Ugh, he could do with some of that right now. But yet, there was no desire behind it at all as the scent got stronger.  
  
Now that... was odd.  
  
Voices on the other side echoed past a closed door, the smell of blood made his nose twitched again, made his tail uncurl itself from his thigh when his feet touched the ground. Desire licked his lips, cocking his head as he deftly walked through the door. What greeted him, wasn't what he thought it would be at all.  
  
"Now is the hour of our-" this tall fucking ugly thing of a thing pointed at the ensorcelled mortals around the room, "-victory. Prepare the- What is the meaning of this?"  
  
Desires eyes go huge when the thing of a thing pointed right at him. Maybe, there was someone else here? He looked over his shoulder, nope, the thing was pointing right at him when he looked back.  
  
"Er... hello?" he said really lamely even for him feeling the air get thick around them, "Sorry, wasn't being rude or anything, but- well- blood," he just shrugged.  
  
The thing narrowed his eyes up, then went right on back to what he was doing with that wrinkly stupid hatted mortal, who was bound in blood in the air struggling to break free. Desire, backed off a little. He wasn't meant to be there, no, he really wasn't when the armoured ones started casting magic right in his direction. SHIT!  
  
Oh he was in deep void shit now, feeling his entire being dragged through the veil, trying to be bound to these armoured bastards. Like fuck was he going to be bound again!  
  
Desire flung his own hands out at them catching several in his own magic, sneering his lip up when he did it again, "You can fuck right off with that shit!"  
  
The wrinkly mortal knocked something out the hand of the ugly thing, it rolled on the ground as Desire made the armoured mortals dance to the death, "Run! You must warn them! PLEASE!"  
  
'Warn who?' he thought looking down at the orb right by his semi-mortal feet. Huh, was really pretty when he bent down to pick it up, the ugly thing roared out in anger when it exploded in his hand, sending the feeling of home right on through him. How the fuck can this thing feel like home, when he WAS home? He blanked out for a moment, the smell of drying blood clung to his nose when he felt like he was falling.  
  
Desires eyes go wide as the demesnes of one he REALLY didn't want to be in, came into view as he fell through the fade sky. His left hand sparked putting it out to try and brace him when he landed heavily, snapping both his horns right off his head when he bounced on the ground. His head felt like a fifty tonne Sloth was sitting on it, his broken off horns rolled down the steps of Nightmares demesnes when he groaned, slamming his fists on the ground. His eyes blinking rapidly when something else fell onto the ground next to him with a thud.  
  
A long handled knife skidded to a stop right in-front of his nose, blood caked from tang to tip when he blinked again. The fuck?  
  
"Whaa... where... am I?" a very raspy voice wheezed right next to him.  
  
Desire shifted his weight to kneel, his tail inching forward to the knife laying there picking it up to look over, then looked to the raspy voice. He blinked rapidly again at the strange mortal laying right there covered in blood on their arms, huge gashes from wrist to almost elbow on both.  
  
"Well then," he crawled on all fours to this mortal, cocking his head when they winced in pain, "Your not meant to be here. Neither am I come to think of it."  
  
Skits and clicks echoed up the dark and twisted steps behind him, his shoulders slump when he knows exactly what the are: Fearlings. Wonderful. Nightmares going to have a field day right now with this one laying half dead on the floor, and him too, because he's an idiot.  
  
"Okay, weird, strange mortal, we need to get the fuck outta here. Like right now," he pointed down the steps, the mortal just shook their head, "Do you really want to be eaten by Fearlings? I don't. Now come on."  
  
He tried to help them to stand, but void all mighty they were cold, and weak, and lost a LOT of blood, (which he wasn't getting excited over right now, because it wouldn't exactly be right).  
  
He just picked the strange mortal up, carrying them in his arms through Nightmares demesnes. This was bad, like, really really bad as the Fearlings got closer, eager to taste the both of them right now. Fuck this shit, he didn't need this right now, he really didn't running up the steep steps. Huh, that wrinkly mortal was standing up at the top, waving him on.  
  
Desire, doesn't exactly remember much of what happened next, other then he was falling again, which was getting fucking old pretty fast. But he does remember seeing mortals with swords pointing at the pair of them when he hit actual solid ground, letting the strange mortal go with a bounce, which chipped his already broken horns.  
  
He passes out, which was very undignified indeed even for him.

* * *

  
**Two - Welcome to your new life, stranger then the old life...**  
  
Desire hummed looking about himself, hummed looking over the mortals standing there aiming swords right at him, bound and chained to the floor. Any other time, this would of been great being chained, but not right now, judging by these mortals looks of disdain right at him.  
  
He hummed again flicking the hair from his face, rattling the chain when he thrummed his fingers on his thighs. His tail, when he tried to move it, was chained down too. Now THAT was rude! How was he supposed to do anything like this, hmm? Even the soothing hum of home in his hand did nothing as he knelt there, waiting for- Ugh, he had no IDEA what he was waiting for. Other then probably being killed.  
  
The strange mortal next to him shifted, their head lolled forward more only to snap their eyes open, blinking.  
  
Dan opened one eye trying to focus, then did the same with the other. She gave up keeping them closed, hissing through her teeth at the pain in her wrists. Her back hurt too. Why the fuck did her back hurt? Something rattled next to her, which just made Dan jerk upright looking over to the sound. She blinked rapidly at the really tall, pale skinned, and she thinks, horned person? next to her.  
  
"The fuck?"  
  
"Thats what I said!" the man grinned, shifting in place, "Well, I've said that several times now, while we wait for whatever these mortals want to do with us."  
  
Dan frowned trying to focus on the man again, but her eyes just wouldn't do anything feeling cold go through her, "What? Who... shit." Everything felt strange, even more strange, when she finally looked down, was the fact she was chained to the floor.  
  
"OH GOD! OH FUCKING GOD! WHAT THE HELL!" panic and fear went right through her pulling at everything, only to aggravate the bandages around her arms, seeps of red bled through the white right there, "I think I'm gonna be sick."  
  
"Er, not on me I hope," Desire tried to back away when the mortals head bowed, "You there," he motioned with his chin to the sword wielding angry mortal, "I think that one needs help."  
  
"Shut it, demon."  
  
"Blood Mages get no help, fiend."  
  
Well, that was uncalled for.  
  
Dan felt bile rise up in the back of her throat, her head swam like she drank too much alcohol. The words from these people just washed over her, she thinks one said demon? Dan couldn't be too sure when her head swam lifting it up, feeling tears just roll down her face. She, was a prisoner somewhere, with people pointing swords at her, in armour? Medieval armour? The fucks going on?  
  
"I, I," her voice sounded hoarse, sounded rough and raw when she swallowed, "don't feel... good."  
  
One of the mortals right next to Desire just scoffed loudly, "What you get for slitting your wrists, Blood Mage. Get no sympathy from any of us."  
  
"Commander Cullen said-" another began but was cut off when the door slammed open, several people pouring in through it.  
  
All of them stood there glaring at the two of them on the floor. One in particular growled through their teeth, pointing right at him, then to the strange mortal next to him, "Check her again. Make sure he doesn't flee either."  
  
"Cassandra, she's not a Mage. Theres not a drop of magic in her, no mana, no lyrium, no-"  
  
"The demon cannot of come from no-where!" this Cassandra scoffed, "Ugh. Why else would someone slit their wrists in such manner, Cullen?"  
  
Dan flinched, trying to wipe her eyes with the bound hands. She flinched again as some red haired woman knelt down right in-front of her, searching her eyes then down to her bandaged arms. The womans blue eyes looked sad from under the hood she wore, "Because," the woman sighed looking over her shoulder, "she tried to- It is a private matter, one I know well, Cassandra."  
  
"Um, not to be rude or anything, but, why am I all chained up and no-one to play with? Not that I'm complaining or anything, its just a might rude, thats all."  
  
The hooded women stifled a chuckle, Dan blearily looked over at the tall, and yes he did have horns, man next to her. He looked back at her, winking, then stopped when her head slammed right against his arm. He smelt nice.  
  
"Ugh. Demon, you are chained because you killed Her Most Holy with her! You fell out the fade with her in your arms, but," Cassandra huffed out in annoyance, "well, do you know what happened?"  
  
Desire tilted his head to one side, trying to thump his tail in agitation on the ground, "No, I fucking don't. I think some mortal was there, I think Fearlings were chasing us? Now I'm stuck here."  
  
"What about you?" Cassandra sneered her lip up at the woman leaning on the demon, "Do YOU know what happened?"  
  
"Waaa..." Dan lifted her head slowly on the bulky arm under her face, her chin rest on the mans bicep blinking, "I, I tried- I- what?"  
  
"What about the mark on your hand, demon. The one on her back? Where did they come from?"  
  
Desire just shrugged, nearly dislodging the mortal still trying to focus on his face, "Its a piece of home. Don't know about that one though. Can you please unchain my tail, this is all uncalled for!"  
  
"Tail?" Dan sluggishly moved away from the nice smelling man, "Demon? Am, am I dead? Wheres dad?"  
  
Cassandra punched the wall by the door, this was getting no-where fast with these two. Cullen had already left, which just left the guards around the cell, herself and Leliana to deal with- with- with the Desire demon and the Blood Mage who wasn't a Mage! Ugh.  
  
Leliana slipped the key from her belt when she clutched her hand, ignoring the pain go through it while the Spymaster unchained them both. The demon sighed out in relief, thumping his smooth tail on the floor, the woman on the other hand, retched when she lent forward. Leliana brushed the odd colour hair from the womans eyes, pulling an Elfroot potion from her pouch, offering it to the woman still retching.  
  
"Drink, it will soothe the pain."  
  
Dan stared at the bottle when her stomach spasmed again, eyeing the orange contents. She shook her head sitting back on her haunches, "Not, not drinking something I don't know. Where am I?"  
  
"Haven, under the Chantry... er?" Leliana frowned at the woman helping her to stand, trying not to touch the aggravated wounds on her wrists, "We do not know your name."  
  
"Danny, Danny Fraser. I, I really don't feel too good," she spat out to one side, trying to get the bile taste from her mouth, "Ca-can I have water?"  
  
Leliana held out the Elfroot again, "This would be better. Trust me, it'll soothe the pain, ease your stomach, and help with the bleeding, Danny. And you," she quirked her eyebrow at the demon standing there with folded arms when the woman took the bottle, "Do you have a name?"  
  
"Yes, Desire. Thats it," name, he didn't need some stupid name thrusted upon him, he WAS his name.  
  
"I do not think we should call you that," he went to protest at the mortal Cassandra when she scoffed waving for them to move, "Even though you ARE a demon."  
  
"Yes, yes, I'm a scary demon. Hardly," he scoffed himself ducking under the doorway, "I only feast on blood occasionally, I very rarely do anything to mortals. I much prefer my own kind, thank you very much."  
  
Dan ducked under some lantern thing, "Why do you people keep saying demon? Their not real. Are they?"  
  
Everyone just stopped to look at her. Everyone gave her a really weird look too, which was unnerving. Even more so when this Cassandra flapped her mouth open and closed before it thinned, stomping off ahead of them.  
  
"Perhaps, we should discuss this some other time. You do look very pale, Danny. Maybe you hit your head a little too hard, no," Leliana smiled softly from under her hood.  
  
Desire wrinkled his entire face up ducking under yet another door. This strange mortal had no idea what he was? What was that about? He stopped dead in his tracks looking through the huge door in-front of him, his tail thumped against his legs looking at the multitude of people out there. He may not be one of the best ones to feel emotions from mortals, but he didn't need too with the looks on some of their faces.  
  
And void, were they angry. Even from here he could see they were angry. He wanted to go home now.  
  
Dan, got to see the very tall mans tail, which just made her stare wide eyed at it swishing about like a cats. She skimmed her eyes up the half naked man, to the long black hair that brushed down his back, to the broken horns on his head, the pointed pierced ears. Dan rubbed her eyes, then hissed at the pain when she looked at him again. She wasn't seeing things. She really fucking wasn't seeing things when she stepped back a few paces.  
  
"Are-are you a human cat?" she squeaked out, "The fuck?"  
  
"A human cat? NO, I'm not a human cat! I'm a Desire, mortal! Voids sake," he shook his head, "Your the one covered in blood like some uncouth barbarian. Human cat, ugh."  
  
Dan looked down at her jeans, at the huge stains of dried blood going down them, over her T-shirt too. She slumped her shoulders, lowering her head just walking past the two people standing there, ignoring them both going through the doors out into the biting cold. Fucking hell, was it cold standing there shivering. All these people were staring right at her, all these people had sneered up face, pointing at her, then to behind her. Vomit rose back up in her mouth trying to back away, only to have someone push her on her back to move.  
  
"Be no point going back in there. Unless you want to be chained back up again?"  
  
Dan squinted when the tall one called Desire? smirked striding past all these people. Who looked like they all should have pitchforks and torches, when she dipped her head down so she wouldn't look at any of them with shame going right through her.  
  
Desire raised an eyebrow at the strange mortal, then to the one called Cassandra glaring up at him, pointing to-  
  
"VOID! What the fuck- What happened?" the fade undulated in the sky over their heads. A bloody great hole was punched right through to the fade, right there, up in the sky. The piece of home sparked in his hand when it heaved, soothing the raging turmoil he had go right through him. Which he won't admit he's feeling right now being on the mortal plane. No, he won't admit to anything, that he's just a little bit scared.  
  
"We call it the Breach. We do not know what happened when Her Most Holy began her talks," Cassandra wrinkled her nose up looking at it as well, "But something went wrong, something exploded when it was set to begin. The Templars, the Mages, her clergy all dead. And you two, you two are the only survivors."  
  
Dan squinted up at the green thing in the sky, then shook her head, "I'm not a terrorist! I, fuck, I just tried to kill myself! I DIDN'T BLOW SOMETHING UP!" Holy fucking hell, she knows she didn't blow something up!  
  
"You- what? You, you tried to kill yourself?" Cassandra blinked a few times, "Why?"  
  
"Whats the point. I don't know you," Dan shrugged trying to wrap her arms around herself, "I don't know me either. I, I don't feel well."  
  
"I want to know why theres a ruddy great hole into my homeland," Desire rankled, then his face slowly dropped, "Oh, no, my friends! They, they were right there. Truth..." His tail drooped feeling sorrow go right through him, looking back up at the fade hole in the sky. His friend, might be dead. All his kind that came to watch, might be dead. He cared little of what mortals were killed there, but his kind being caught up in something...  
  
"Then help us close it before its too late. Help us find who did this to you, to her, to everyone who died. And someone get Danny a coat or cloak, or something!"  
  
He just nodded mutely still looking up at the sky, sorrow, grief, and everything else went through him. Dan just sucked in a deep breath as she shivered, the blooded jeans just sticking to her skin. She has no idea what the fucks going on at all. She had no idea what these people were even talking about. The red haired women tapped her shoulder, Dan's eyes go wide at her backpack and leather jacket in the womans hands.  
  
"We found them next to you. We also found a very blood stained knife, Danny. I hope you do not mind that we confiscated that," Leliana helped her put the jacket on, "And I hope you do not mind we keep hold of your backpack for now. I will return it to you when you come back."  
  
She just weakling smiled at the woman, then trailed the other two who were going through some gates. Her back itched something rotten, rolling her shoulders to shift her T-shirt did nothing to scratch it. Her arms and hands were in too bad of shape to even reach behind. Desire waved with his hand at her to follow, she just wanted to go home now.  
  
The only other person she's ever met called Desire, certainly did NOT look like him. They were the most amazing Drag queen, not some tall horned, tail swishing, rather nice smelling man at all.  
  
"You two may not remember what happened. But there was a woman behind you when you came from the fade. We believe it was Andraste, we believe she was the one to send you both in our hour of need."  
  
Desire rankled again, "I think not. Why would some fake, godhood mortal woman send me through to help any of you? I was quite happy where I was!"  
  
"Who's Andraste?"  
  
They both stop to give Dan the same weird look again. Dan just sighed through her nose, looking at them both, "Never mind then."  
  
Cassandra waved them to move while she spoke, "Danny, how can you now know who Andraste is? How old are you?"  
  
"Thirty-nine. Kinda getting past my sell by date," she shrugged, "I don't even know what the fucks going on. Being dragged through the freezing cold-"  
  
"- in soiled clothing too. Voids sake, you mortals are rather brutal against each other, aren't you. Was it any wonder I hate dealing with your kind," Desire shook his head, "Bah, at least MY kind are more accepting in each other."  
  
"You are the one with hardly any clothing on demon! Sweet Maker, at least you have pants and something resembling a vest, unlike the female of your kind."  
  
Dan just ignored the two of them trailing behind. Mortals, demons, Andraste, Chantry, a weird green thing in the sky? She was so confused. Did she actually die, was she dreaming all of this, was this heaven, hell, purgatory?  
  
"Maybe I'm fucking delusional from blood loss," she mumbled.  
  
Desire, was about to retort when chunks of his homeland slammed into the bridge, sending them all flying off it onto the frozen water below. The strange mortal woman screamed in pain landing on her hands, Cassandra clutched the back of her head. Him, he sneered his lip up as Shades just simmered under the ice. Their beady purple eyes watching them until they burst right on up out of it.  
  
Useless fucking things Shades, all they ever did was harass and poke at mortals. Slither their way in to magic mortals to take them over, corrupting the both of them. Useless.  
  
One slithered over to the strange mortal trying to back away. It eyed them, tilting their head as they backed off, then went for him instead. Of course they did, Shades and Desires never have mixed. He stuck both his hands out, purple raced down his arms then out through his palms right into the beady eyed shit. It squeaked when it was struck, trying to brush the magic off its stupid torn clothing, the fade magic chewing it up from the inside out. It popped like a grape over everything when it died.  
  
"Yuk," Desire flicked the muck from his hands, "Useless, unintelligent, slithering, beady eyed-"  
  
"FUCKING SLUGS!" Dan shouted trying to hide behind him now, "THAT, that was a fucking giant slug!"  
  
"A slug? Well..." huh, he never thought of them that way, "Yes, I can see that. Why are you trying to hide behind me? Maybe you should help the angry one up front, hmm."  
  
Dan gave him an incredulous look, "Fight? You, you want me to fight when I can't feel my fucking hands? Against a GIANT SLUG! Are you out of your fucking gourd? I have no idea how to fight. Oh god, I'm gonna be sick."  
  
"So, you don't know how to fight either? Where in the void are you from, strange, weird, odd mortal?" he sighed pushing her away when Cassandra ran back at them waving her shield at him.  
  
"You will NOT use your magic, demon. You will stay behind me, you will do nothing. I will not have you casting your- your-"  
  
Desire folded his arms over his chest, cocking his hip at her, "Excuse me! You do realise theres plenty of twisted out there, right? And your going to take them all on your lonesome? Don't make me laugh, mortal. I can take care of myself, you can bark at her all I care. She can't fight, she doesn't know anything, and I REALLY WANT TO GO HOME!" His foot stomped on the ice in anger, he's about had enough right now.  
  
"You- I- You- UGH!" Cassandra flung her hands up in the air still holding her weapons, then glowered as she heaved in anger herself, "You cannot go home, demon. We need you," she said out slowly, "I will protect Danny, if she cannot protect herself. And my name is Cassandra, NOT mortal. Use it."  
  
"I will call you what you are, if you insist on calling me DEMON!" he spat, "I am a SPIRIT, not some stupid concoction you MORTALS fathomed up!"  
  
"Yet you fest upon blood, like a DEMON!" Cassandra spat back jabbing the sword in his direction, "That is what demons do. A Desire demon, who tempts, who-"  
  
"WILL YOU BOTH SHUT UP! Oh my fucking god, just shut the fuck up, please. I've just seen fucking sparkles come from his hands," Dan stood there shaking, "A giant fucking slug tried to eat me, theres green shit up there. I DON'T KNOW WHATS GOING ON RIGHT NOW! And... I'm gonna pass out."  
  
Everything from Cassandra's hands dropped on the floor when Danny rocked in place, her face getting paler and paler, and caught her before she collapsed. The bandages around her hands and arms were soaked in blood, little drips dropped onto the ice freezing instantly. Cassandra sucked in a deep breath keeping the woman leaning against her chest, slowly unraveling the soaked cloth, then looked up at the demon, who looks like he was panicking with the way his tail swished.  
  
"There are healing poultices in my pack, Desire. And fresh bandages," she said quietly, "I need you to retrieve them for me while I do this."  
  
Desire nodded his head going behind her, pulling the pack open, "I, I don't actually feast on blood, mort- Cassandra. The smell," he pulled everything out handing it to her over her shoulder, "its erotic. I may indulge in a little, um, tasting? There you go."  
  
"Erotic? No, I will not ask. There are enough people in this world with odd habits, let alone your kind having... kinks."  
  
"Kinks," Dan snorted softly, "I really like leather."  
  
Desire stifled a chuckle behind Cassandra, who lets out a very strange sound from her mouth, "Leather is a good one. I know many a Command who have a personal thing for, leather. Truth... oh my friend, he had one for old books in this plane. I hope he isn't dead."  
  
"We shall see soon enough when we reach the Temple. Are you well enough to move, Danny? We are not too far from others up ahead," Cassandra gently brushed the womans hair from her eyes, "There maybe someone who can heal you better then I."  
  
"Yeah, may take a while though," she tried to smile, but the corners of her mouth did nothing but stay there.  
  
*********************************  
  
Dan's lungs felt like someone put a fire right in them trying to breathe. The smell was disgusting when another giant slug exploded everywhere, the green floating, half-skeletal things winked out right in-front of her. But she couldn't breathe because she was scared stiff right now.  
  
Cassandra had put a small dagger in her hands in case she was attacked. Yeah, that was REALLY going to improve matters right now, giving a woman who tried to kill herself a fucking deadly weapon! Brilliant. Bravo. Do I hear a round of applause somewhere? Nope, that was just a slow clap that shes imagining in her severally blood lost brain.  
  
"I believe thats the last of them, you can hear the fighting."  
  
Desire sighed, flicking the hair from his face, "Who's fighting?"  
  
"You will soon see," Cassandra just charged up the hill in-front of them both.  
  
Dan was trailing behind again, shaking, looking over her shoulder, then twitching when she looked forward up at him. He just rolled his eyes, gently taking the dagger from her shaking hands, slipping that into his waist band, "Mine, for now."  
  
"Don't fucking care," Dan mumbled shoving her hands into her pockets, the winced pulling them back out, "I'll only end up trying to- Shit."  
  
"Why, strange mortal, were you trying to kill yourself? There are better deaths then oozing perfectly good blood from ones body."  
  
She just glared up at him, "None of your mother fucking business, cat-man. I don't know you, you don't know me. Fuck off."  
  
"And here I thought we were having a moment back there," Desire thumbed behind them, "Bonding over kinks. Fine, whatever. Suffer." He just bound on right up ahead, his tail thumped the back of his legs in anger over everything. Why was he walking? Ugh.  
  
His tail wrapped around his thigh, letting his feet skim the ground catching up the to the angry Cassandra. MUCH better then walking like some uncouth mortal. Desire sighed feeling a mild tug of home over the rise. He could also feel, wonderful, more Shades as well.  
  
Cassandra sighed through her nose looking over at the people fighting below. Varric, was still here. Solas was still here as well, and thank the Maker for that. The dwarf looked over his shoulder when she jumped down then ran up beside him, her weapons in hand.  
  
"Glad you made it, Seeker. Me and Chuckles nearly didn't save any for ya," he winked, aiming his crossbow at the Shades.  
  
"Ugh."  
  
"Eloquent as always," the dwarf grinned doing a back flip, then vanished.  
  
Desire puffed out his cheeks gliding down this ruined bridge, uncurling his tail when he shoved both his hands out. Shades looked over at him as the fade struck them all in one go. All of them bar one, popped, getting ichor over absolutely everyone standing there. The one that tried to get away was pinned to the wall, several more bolts went into it before it snuffed out of existence.  
  
Dan, just slipped over the bridge, nearly smacking her face on the ground when the giant slug poofed. Her back itched even more now staring up at the weird glowing green thing, hanging right in midair. She watched some man with pointy ears like a puppies take Desires hand in his, before the taller man snatched it away with a huff.  
  
"Quickly, you must close the tear!"  
  
"I will do no such thing! Thats my way home, thank you very much. Been nice," he dipped his head at them all putting his hand out, "but, fuck you all."  
  
Solas blinked when the spirit tried to leave, only to stand there growling when nothing happened. He sighed, gingerly taking the spirits hand again holding it out, "Unfortunately, thats not your way home. See," green tendrils slowly snaked their way forward, snapping the tear close, "Not your way home."  
  
"Well thats utter sloth-shit. Can I leave through the large one? It, sort of is punched on right up through my homeland- er-" Desire eyed the elf warily next to him. Oh void, it can't be, can it? "I can't go home, can I."  
  
Varric gave the tall tailed horned man a strange once over, then looked at the Seeker, "Hey," he whispered inching his finger, "Is that what I think it is?"  
  
"Yes Varric," she whispered too, bending down to him, "it is. He is, ugh, a spirit of Desire. He doesn't particularly like being referred to as a demon."  
  
"Huh," the dwarf titled his head, pulling his gloves on, "So, who's that then? The one with the blue hair, trying to scratch her back," he pointed right at Danny trying to reach up, over, then down to her back, growling under her breath.  
  
"Danny, what are doing?"  
  
She jumped, looking at everyone standing there staring at her, "My back itches like fuck when that green thingy vanished. Shit," she winced at her hands, "Can, um, can, someone check it for me?"  
  
Solas squinted his eyes over the odd human with blue hair, then to the bandaged hands, then to her blood stained clothes, then to the familiar feeling coming from her back.  
  
"Allow me, if you will. I can heal your wounds as well," he dipped his head watching the woman shrug the strange coat from her shoulders onto the snow. Cassandra lifted the back of the womans shirt up, his eyes go wide as did his mouth at the tattoo there.  
  
"PALA! That- thats a fade tattoo!" his fingers skimmed down the markings, over the very, very familiar markings right there on her back, "How- where- thats impossible!"  
  
Dan felt a little exposed with everyone gawking at her back, "A what now? How the fuck did I get a tattoo on my back? The hell did that come from?"  
  
"You were in the fade, were you not," Cassandra dropped the womans shirt, "Or do you not know what that is like everything else, Danny?"  
  
Desires eyes went a little wide at the tattoo too when he saw it, his eyes looked quickly at the one supposedly called Solas, then back at the strange mortal. He recognised it too, he knows the tell tale signs of one who's been fade touched. THAT only happens to magic mortals who's linger too long in his home refusing to leave. Theres no way she was there that long to receive one, and she's not even like the rest of them standing around looking at her even more strangely.  
  
"No, I don't know what that is," Dan ground out covering herself up with her leather jacket, "I want to know why the fuck I have some fucking tattoo I never asked for ON MY BACK! Will you stop staring at me like I'm some fucking freak, I've had enough of that back home!"  
  
"Sorry Bluey, just never seen shit like that before either. Er, maybe, maybe we should just get going, huh," Varric blushed motioning with his head further down the valley, "Theres, um, theres someone else here Seeker. Gotta make sure their alright."  
  
Well this was brilliant. She had some weird sodding thing on her back, that just made them all stare at her, they probably got to see some of her scars too, which pleased her no end. Theres a fucking man with puppy ears who keeps eyeing her, little sparkles of green coming from his hand right at her now. Dan jumped several feet away from it when it touched her skin. The man just sighed out heavily doing it again, Dan just ran to hide behind Cassandra and her Medieval shield.  
  
"Its just healing. This magic will not hurt you, if thats what your afraid of."  
  
"No, its fucking shit I don't know what it is I'm afraid of," Dan spat at him, "So, yeah, keep your sparkles to yourself."  
  
Solas wrinkled his entire face up, deftly jumping over the wooden sty to the path beyond. Everyone else followed Varric when he ran off ahead of them. Cassandra was calling him back, Desire was getting aggravated with everything, Dan just trailed on behind everyone as she tried to hide her fucking fear.  
  
The dwarf panted out when the Seeker caught up to him, "Who else is here, Varric? And I thought I told you to leave when the Temple exploded."  
  
"An old friend. Just, don't kill him when you see who it is, huh. Kinda my best friend an all," Varric shrugged, "Why I stayed when they showed up. And no, it ain't Hawke before you get all bug eyed and drooly."  
  
Cassandra thinned her mouth right on up at the dwarf. She did not drool over the Champion, even if he did sound far too romantic and heroic then the dwarf makes him seem to be. She still wants to meet him though. Maybe sign the Tale while she was at it.  
  
"Destructive forces of nature, COMING UP!" echoed out around them, a flash of purple came from the sky as a massive lightening storm thundered down, "HAH! Take that!"  
  
Desires mouth fell open when he felt a Justice up ahead, his tail swished happily feeling righteousness ebb slowly into him, making him sigh out with the feeling. But, there was also the feeling of a magic mortal wrapped on up around Justice the closer the got. Hmm...  
  
"BLONDIE! Maferaths balls, you did it again you ass," Varric snickered sliding on the ice over to the tall mage grinning at him, "So, yeah, thats the Seeker, Chuckles, Swish and Bluey. Kinda just met the last two by the way."  
  
"Took too bloody long to get here, thats what. Justice got bored," Anders winked, then dropped his face at the Desire skimming the ice over to him, "Holy Andraste's fiery knickers! Whats one of him doing here?"  
  
"Now thats plane rude, I say," Desire quirked an eyebrow, "I should be asking you why you have one of my kind in you. Are you possessing him? If so, release him at once!" he thumped his tail on the ground.  
  
Dan slipped on the ice trying to catch them all up. Wow, she blinked her eyes up at the tall blond man narrowing his own up at Desire. He was kinda cute, trying to get up off her backside, long blond hair, pale brown eyes, long legs, fuck... why couldn't she-  
  
"I'm not possessing him! He's not possessing me either," Anders sniffed, "We joined ten years ago, never been apart since. Wait-" he skimmed his eyes down to the pale green fade piece in the Desires hand, "Oh boy, where'd you get that from? And, er, I didn't do it. The explosion I mean."  
  
Cassandra glared right at him, then the dwarf chewing his lip with a worried look on his face, "YOU! Your the one who blew the Kirkwall Chantry! Varric, you said he died!"  
  
"Er, yeah, about that," he just grinned backing away from her, "I, may of lied about that... and a few others things."  
  
Everyone started shouting over the top of each other while Dan tried to get traction on the ice, slipping and sliding all over the place. Her arms flailed when she skidded again, right into the path of the blond man, who caught her before she fell. Dan screamed in pain catching her wrists on the mans long coat, blood seeped through the bandages again as the man lowers her down. Tears streamed down her face, panting heavily through her clenched jaw, feeling her head swim again loosing more blood.  
  
She's made one hell of a mistake in trying to kill herself, if this is what she gets for it all.  
  
"Makers breath, why hasn't anyone healed her? Justice, no, its fine, no calm down- What? Where? Can I heal her first before you start, please?"  
  
Anders glared at them, especially at the other mage right there, "Seriously? You know what, I'll deal with this while you lot just bugger off. NOT a spirit healer for nothing. Varric," he sighed looking at his friend still trying to back off from Cassandra, "I'll catch you lot up, alright. Justice is getting a bit twitchy with all of you around right now."  
  
"Blondie, stay safe. See you on the flip side, huh."  
  
"Better bloody survive," Anders winked, then looked down at the blue haired woman, who's face was getting paler panting through her teeth, "Now, lets sort you out. I'm Anders by the way dear Lady."  
  
"Lady," Dan scoffed sucking in a deep breath, "I'm no god damn lady, mate. Shit..."  
  
Anders shrugged unraveling the soaked bandages, "I won't ask why you did this, not like I haven't seen the signs before. But, Justice wants to know why- why your fade touched too."  
  
Dan just closed her eyes, not even bothering with a reply. She, honest to god, didn't want to tell all these people, who she doesn't even fucking know, why she did it. She knows her silence is answer enough, but fade touched? Fade tattoo? Dan really really wanted to wake up now, she really wanted this dream to end.

* * *

  
**Three - The Fucks a Qunari?**  
  
Desire chewed on his bottom lip, playing with his piercing in his mouth looking over his shoulder. Why in the name of the void was he feeling a gnawing in the pit of his stomach? Why didn't he want to leave the strange mortal behind with the other one? Ugh, he wrinkled his nose up looking forward again, he's just feeling uneasy being on the mortal plane, thats all.  
  
Uneasy with the one pretending to be something else too, when the elf narrowed his eyes up at him again. Desire shrugged, not like he's going to reveal who the elf was to anyone. Not his bloody place to do so. Oh look, yet another way home he can't go through, yet more Shades and Wraiths trying to attack mortals.  
  
"This, is getting old, pretty fast too you know," he mumbled pulling the dagger from his waist band, "Useless, the whole lot of you," he threw it into a Wraiths head.  
  
"Swish, everything gets old pretty fast when it comes to this lot," Varric snarked.  
  
Stone child had a point. Desire puffed out his cheeks snapping the tear closed, letting out a very soft moan feeling home run on right through him again. He wanted to hurry up and get to the Temple, see if his friends were still there, and all of this, was taking too fucking long to do.  
  
"Stop calling me Swish, Stone child. My name is Desire, not demon, not some random stupid name your all pulling from thin air," he stomped off ahead when the gates opened, "I have NO need for another name."  
  
Cassandra rolled her eyes at the taller man, swiftly making her way to Leliana arguing with Roderick. Ugh, what a weaselly little man he was too when he sneered his lip up at her, then to everyone else there. Solas rolled his own eyes when the Chantry man started barking orders at the Seeker, who barked back. This was getting them no-where at all. He eyed the spirit again, of all the things to happen, this was not what he wanted at all. A spirit no less could reveal who he truly was.  
  
And then there was the other spirit the other mage had in him as well. This, was not good. Etunash.  
  
"I'm not going to climb some mountain when theres a perfectly good path right there," Desire huffed out, "We go that way."  
  
"Good!" Cassandra smirked, "Move out, EVERYONE!"  
  
Desire skimmed over the bridge behind everyone, he should be feeling the hum from the Temple even at this distance. But he couldn't. He couldn't feel any of his kind either, other then more Shades and Wraiths, oh... great, he can feel a few Terrors up ahead as well. Wonderful.  
  
And, he smirks when it got closer: Justice again.  
  
The Stone child looked over his shoulder grinning wide as the one called Anders, grinned back with Dan leaning on him. Justice reached out slightly to Desire, tugging on him, asking him, 'Who else were supposed to be here?'  
  
'Valor, Mercy, many fucking others. Truth, my, my friend, he,' Desire lowered his head, 'was here too. I can't feel any of them. Can you?'  
  
'I cannot. I feel nothing but dirty magic. And,' Justice paused cocking his hosts head to the familiar feeling, 'red lyrium. Wait one moment.'  
  
"WHAT! Justice are- You have got to be- Varric," Anders tugged on the dwarfs shoulder, "theres Red Lyrium here somewhere!"  
  
Varric's eyes go huge looking about himself, "Shit. Shit. Ahhh, sodding SHIT! Seeker, we gotta problem."  
  
Dan, was left standing there once again, with no clue what the fucks going on now. At least her arms stopped hurting, what with the blue sparkles Anders did over her skin. But everything itched, absolutely everywhere on her arms, her legs, everything. God, she wanted to roll around in thistles just to make it stop. Dan sighed through her nose following everyone again, she felt weak, sick, her head still swam, which Anders said she needed bed rest for not being dragged along when she's half dead.  
  
She still wanted to wake up from the nightmare, thank you very much.  
  
The pointy eared man looked at her again, Dan just looked away, then up. Holy fucking shit! Her lips parted at the massive green thing in-front of them. She also backed off a few paces when someone in a bathrobe ran up to them all. Weirdo, wearing a bathrobe out in public. Cute, sure- Wait- he was the one in the prison block. Right? She slowly crept to hide behind Anders, who quirked an eyebrow over his shoulder at her.  
  
"If its Cullen, yeah, I don't blame you to be honest, Dan. Had enough trouble with him back in Kirkwall, and Kinloch," Anders shrugged, a flash of blue went over his eyes like it did when he patched her up, "Hawke had a massive thing for him though."  
  
"Hawk? A, a fucking bird?"  
  
Anders snorted shaking his head, "Noooo. Daniel Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall, was a friend to both me and Varric. Well, right on up to the point I did something prettty bad."  
  
"Oh. I dunno who that is, so, I'll just pretend I do," Dan peaked around his coat to the one called Cullen, "He kinda looks like a knucklehead. A bit of a dorfy knucklehead. And," she raised her own eyebrow at him, "What kinda bad?"  
  
"I blew up the Kirkwall Chantry," he whispered, "Pissed everyone off. I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not. Dorfy knucklehead? What in blazes does that mean?"  
  
Dan's eyes widen when she stepped back from him, "You, you blew something up? Your, a terrorist! Oh sweet hell. Oh, sweet, god damn hell..."  
  
"Hey, I did it to save mages. Not like anyone else was going to do it!" Anders spat at her, "I was left with no other choice, I gave them all justice they sodding well deserved. Well, right on up until they decided killing everyone else was far better then trying to be sodding normal. Templars too. Ugh, we, really fucked up on that one."  
  
"Blowing something up doesn't make shit better," she spat back, "Fucks sake, I've seen enough of that on TV, newspapers, killing people because they fucking can. Justice, doesn't start with blowing something up!"  
  
Blue lightening raced over the mans skin, blue flashed over pale brown eyes glaring at her, "And what do YOU know of justice? We did what no-one else wished to do, mortal!"  
  
"BULLSHIT! Justice has never fucking worked, never has done never will do. There is NO justice in the fucking world, none. Blowing something up to prove a god damn point, is just plain fucking stupid," Dan's head swam when she rocked in place in anger, "I, I- Oh god."  
  
Someone caught her when she collapsed again. Her eyes blurred trying to focus on the face above her, but gave up when her head just swam. She, really wanted sleep. Wake up from the nightmare.  
  
Desire wrinkled his face up at the one called Anders, watching Justice race over his skin, then ebb away into the magic mortal. He looked down at the blue haired one in his arms, he shrugged picking her arm, carrying her as he skimmed the surface to the ruined Temple. He still couldn't feel any other of his kind at all. There were no signs of any Faith's, Mercy's, not even anything from his friend Truth. Nothing to denote they were even there.  
  
Void, they were all gone. All of them. He's going to be alone on the mortal plane, even if there is Justice behind him. He was the mages as much as the mages were his, wrapped up in one another. Shit.  
  
"Are you ready, Desire?"  
  
He rolled his eyes at Cassandra, "To close a way home thats not a way home? Yeah, sure, why not. You do realise my kind may want to come through to play, right?"  
  
"Demons?"  
  
Desire rankled, thumping his tail against the back of his legs, "Yes," he hissed through his teeth, "Sure, demons. Ugh."  
  
Everyone flew off into a frenzy around, panicking to the fact that things may come through. Mortals, he scoffed ignoring the voices coming from the fade tear, are so jumpy. Oooo, a scary thingy wants to eat them all. Pathetic. And THIS is why he hates dealing with them. His kind were much better. Well, sometimes.  
  
Hmm, what was he going to do with the strange, fade touched mortal in his arms? Eh, he can do two things at once, or three, or ten when he's in one of those moods. He just pushed his hand out before anyone said anything, hefting the mortal woman over his other shoulder. Cassandra yelled they weren't ready, as if he cared ripping his hand back. Oh-  
  
"A PRIDE DEMON!"  
  
The Pride shook her head falling from the tear, her many eyes blinked looking about herself. "Naaawww, poor baby," Desire sighed walking over the hulking thing shaking, "know what that feels like my friend."  
  
"Desire? Why, why am I here?" she whimpered trying to back away from everyone aiming at her, "What happened?"  
  
"Stop your bloody blubbering and hold still. They," Desire pointed to all the mortals going wide eyed at him, "will kill you if you attack them. I think I pulled you through by accident. Don't think you can go back now, sorry."  
  
Pride started to sob backing off even more. Well this was perfect, of all the sodding things-  
  
An arrow whizzed right by his head, straight into Prides arm. He turned on the dot to see who did it when another was let loose. Desire started to panic when Pride roared out in pain, breaking the shafts from her body. The mortal on his shoulders started to slip off when he charged at the idiots trying to kill the baby. But not one of them listened when he shouted for them to stop, not one of them gave a damn they were killing a fucking child. Even Justice screamed at them all to stop.  
  
Pride sunk down on her knees in fear of them all, little rivulets of ichor ran down her body as much tears coming from her many eyes.  
  
"VOID JUST STOP!" he shouted again, "SHE'S JUST A BABY! STOP!"  
  
He clamped his eyes shut when Pride cried out in agony again, the massive thud on the ground, the smell of the fade stung his nose as Pride was murdered right in-front of him. They, they killed a void taken baby! They, ignored him and Justice when they killed her!  
  
Tears streamed down his face pointing both his finger and tail at them all there, "And you wonder why we HATE dealing with your kind, murderers! HOW COULD YOU!"  
  
"Desire, close the breach. They won't listen trust me, brother," Justice glared as much as he was at them all there, "At least the dwarf and the elf did nothing."  
  
He ground his teeth into dust pushing his hand back out, the snaking tendrils wrapped around the tear, tugging on his entire body calling him. Desire felt anger rip right on through him as much as everything else. He hopes they all die when he does this.  
  
He snapped his hand back hard, then passed right on out again with the overwhelming pulse of home go right through him.  
  
*********************************  
  
"How far do they go down?"  
  
Desire frowned at the voice that seemed to be right by his ear.  
  
"Seriously? Don't think I know you well enough for that," a soft chuckle made him peak one eye open.  
  
"Ugh. No, I mean without taking everything off, Dan. Justice has only ever seen a few people with fade tattoos before." AHH, thats who it was talking. Anders, Justice and the strange mortal.  
  
"Almost ever-where. Kinda freaky if you ask me. But then again," Dan sighed out loudly in the cabin, "Everything heres freaky as shit. Swore it was blood loss, you know."  
  
Anders snorted looking out the window, "Tell me about it. All this right now, is the weirdest thing either me and Justice have ever seen. And he's from the sodding fade as it is. Well, okay talking Darkspawn's the weirdest."  
  
"A what now? You know what, I don't wanna know."  
  
Desire yawned loudly, alerting everyone right there and then he was awake. Though, he actually had no idea how long he slept, but he was awake now, swinging his legs out of this rather too small mortal bed. He quirked his eyebrow at the three of them looking at him.  
  
"Bout time. Been a few days now, Desire," Anders rolled his eyes, "And here I thought Justice was bad when he dozes off like an old man. HEY! You sodding do. No, don't start."  
  
"Thats freaky as shit too," Dan mumbled over at him, "Like a nutter yakking to himself all the time, cept he actually has someone there to talk back too."  
  
He snorted stretching his arms over his head, his tail brushing the long hair from his face when he yawned a reply, "Seen worse. Done worse. Am worse. Oh, are you two together?"  
  
"Um," Anders blushed bright red, "Weellll...."  
  
"HAH! That look on his fucking face says it all," Dan laughed pointing at him, "I won't ask how that works. OH..." she leans forward grinning when Desire flopped down beside them in, again, a far too small seat, "Is it like mind fucking? Internal bliss? Hot ghosty action without the mess. Well, your mess not his."  
  
'Justice? Are you and this magic mortal actually together?'  
  
The older spirit sighed, 'Yes, we are. It happened one day, and we have never stopped since.'  
  
'Oh,' Desire frowned looking at his hands, 'But a mortal though? The last time I dealt with their kind, they tried to bind me. Wasn't fucking pleasant.'  
  
'Not all mortals are bad, brother. Some want to help us, be with us, never hurt us. Unlike those who killed poor Pride. Anders shouted at them all for me about it again.'  
  
Desire nodded his head, brushing his face with his tail to hide the tears, 'Bastards, the whole lot of them. See, see,' he mentally jabbed the air, 'this is why I don't deal with their fucking kind, Justice. They will NEVER understand us at all. Never will do.'  
  
'Dan seems different. Even if they did find mine and Anders actions shocking. He spoke to Dan about it while you slept. They are, odd, to say the least,' Justice shrugged.  
  
"Oi, cat-man. That Cassandra bitch wants to see you, by the way."  
  
"Ugh, really? I have a name mortal," Desire ground out, "Or do you intend on calling me names like everyone else?"  
  
Dan shook her head, "No, but Desires not exactly a name now, its like a stage name when the curtains rise. Bitchy wants me to give you one. I mean, really? Didn't know I gained a fucking pet when I wasn't looking as well as tattoos."  
  
"I'm NOT a pet!"  
  
"No, your not. Why I told her to eff off with that shit. But," she smirked when she shrugged at him, "I did kinda pluck one from thin air: Talan. Kinda look like a Talan."  
  
Anders slammed his head on the table, then banged it slightly, "You know what Talan stands for, right? Its Qunari for Truth."  
  
Both Dan and Desire look at each other, then to the man banging his head on the table, "The fucks a Qunari?" they say at the same time.  
  
*********************************  
  
Cullen eyed them both warily from the opposite side of the table. He kept looking down at the blue haired womans wrists, then back up to her face. He shifted uncomfortably in place when the door opened again, Anders striding in through with a grin on his face. Wonderful.  
  
"Now that we are all here," Cassandra cleared her throat, "Desire, also known as Talan Adaar, a Qunari Mercenary who was entrusted to keep the peace at the Conclave, has informed me that he wants Anders to join us, officially, without harm."  
  
Cullen turned around to the wall behind him, hiding his anger in his face before he spoke, "Cassandra, I really don't think-"  
  
"Too late, already done. I'm this fucking Herald right? What I say, goes. Right?"  
  
"A degree, yes," Josephine hummed writing something down, "The people will look to you for aid, for help, for everything now, Talan."  
  
He rolled his eyes, flapping his hands around himself, "What about my kind? Don't they have a say in anything, considering you DID MURDER ONE IN-FRONT OF ME!"  
  
"Anders has already spoke to us many times about that now," the hooded woman crept out from the shadows in the corner, "It was uncalled for. Even with the two of you shouting for everyone to stop. It will not happen again, Herald."  
  
"I fucking hope not," he ground through his teeth, "If and when we find more ways home and they want to be left alone. We leave them. We will NOT kill them. Understand. I will not have more of my kind butchered because of you mortals!"  
  
Dan snapped her mouth shut from yawning, leaning on the blond man next to her, "Still wanna know the fucks a Qunari by the way. But, who was murdered? Did I miss something?"  
  
"One of my kind was murdered by them. She was just a child, a CHILD! NO," Talan put his hands up in the air, "not speaking about that right now. But what the strange one said, I still don't know what the fucks a Qunari either."  
  
"I'll show you both later," the blond mumbled.  
  
"Oh, you show me yours and I'll show you mine thing? Sure," Talan winked, "as long as Justice doesn't mind that is."  
  
Everyone groaned around the table, except for Dan who couldn't help but giggle over the whole thing. But, still, they had no idea why the hell they were there right now, with no idea whats going on still, the tattoos finally stopped growing all over them. Which, thank fuck, stopped itching like mad too. Dan tilted her head looking over the map again, eyeing absolutely everything over it, then put her hand up.  
  
"So, this," she waves her hand over the table, "Where is this exactly? I see names I've never heard of before. So, well, is this earth, another planet, another galaxy- You have no idea what I'm talking about right now, do you."  
  
"This is Thedas, Danny. What is Earth?" Cassandra leaned on the map to look at her, "And what is a galaxy?"  
  
Dan slumped her shoulders, "Doesn't matter. Nothing matters. Not a bloody thing. Can I go now?" she thumbed out the door, "Because I have no idea why I'm here in the first place, okay."  
  
"You are still an oddity, Danny. We still do not know who, or what you are. You claimed you tried to kill yourself, but I for one do not believe you," Cassandra thinned her mouth, "Cullen may of confirmed you are no Blood Mage, but still does not explain being fade touched. Or the blue colour hair."  
  
"I coloured it this way, bitch. Maybe I should of done pink instead, yeah? Fuck off," Dan stormed out the room, cursing loudly when she ran from the church place into the cold. The fucking hell did that bitch think she was? Blood Mage? What the fuck was that as well!  
  
Puffs of snow was kicked up in anger, hands shoved into pockets as Dan thundered past Varric then out the gates. First: She woke up a prisoner all chained up. Second: was the fucking cat-man who's some sort of spirit, demon, whatever. Third: Were people making sparkles happen. No, magic. Dan scoffed scuffing up more snow, magic, shit that isn't fucking real! Fourth: Was she really making a mental list of everything right now?  
  
Dan sat heavily in the snow, pouting.  
  
"Makers breath, what was that all about, Dan?"  
  
Anders flopped down beside her with a worried face on him, "You can talk to me you know. I don't bite, well, sometimes," he snickered.  
  
"Really? Just, really? You may of helped me, but I still don't know you, or Talan, or anyone else here for fucks sake. I still don't know whats going on," Dan sighed laying down, "I don't know where the fuck I am, nothing. And I'm still me, which is worse."  
  
"Still you? Okay, okay, back up a bit and start from the beginning," the man laid on his side, propping his head on one arm looking at her, "Why did you try and kill yourself, sweetheart? What happened?"  
  
Dan gave him a weird look, "Sweetheart? Ugh. Do I look like a- Fuck, look, I dunno about anything here, or about if theres even people like me. Well, I guess theres not, but-"  
  
"Okay, okay, slow down. Besides you coming from the fade, being all touched up and tattooed. Not many apparently, according to Justice and Des- Talan. Its pretty dang rare. But, thats not what you mean."  
  
Dan shook her head in the snow, "No, its not. Okay, you'll probably get all weird on me when I say this, everyone else fucking did. I hate being a woman, okay. I can't stand it, I really can't. I should of been born a man, you know," she wiped her eyes looking at Anders, "I don't like the female bits, I kept it quiet for fucking years. Until I let slip one day that I hate everything about me. That, in all honesty, was the day everything died around me.  
  
Friends started dropping off one by one, partners thought I was a freak. My family sort of understood when I told them, you know. But I don't think they did. Every-time I look in the mirror, I see someone else looking back trapped inside a body thats not meant to be theres. I see someone who's not me staring back every fucking day. I tried going to the doc's, but they brushed me off, saying it was a faze or some shit. THATS why I tried to kill myself, because I can't be who I'm meant to be, because no-one wanted to give a shit, and in the end, neither did I."  
  
Anders hummed under his breath looking her over, he shook his head, "Why would that weird me out? Knew quite a lot of people in the circle like that, they either bound breasts or wore fake ones. Shit, knew many outside the circle like that too. Nothing wrong with it, Dan. Everyone has a right to be who or whatever they want to be."  
  
"Oh. So- but- what about, um, surgeries and shit? Is that even a thing here? Probably not."  
  
Anders hummed again, then frowned sitting up, "Is that what you wanted and they refused you? There are surgeries here, but, I don't think THATS been done."  
  
Dan sighed looking up at the blue sky, "Yeah, it was. Wanted the whole deal, everything. Be who I was supposed to be, what I want to be, guess thats all gone now. Kinda stuck like this forever in a place thats weird as fuck."  
  
"I'm a healer, Dan. I've seen almost everything out there. Been covered in almost everything out there too," Anders smiled softly laying back down, "But, that also means I've seen my fair share of bodies: men, women, dwarves, elves, even Qunari. Even had some of those bodies to myself before Justice. And in the fade, only a few spirits actually had a gender. Talan being a Desire, they all are either male or female. Justice chose to be male before we met. What I'm saying is, I'm here if you want to talk, advice, anything. Healers confidentiality and all that."  
  
"Oh, thats, thats actually really nice of you, Anders. Thank you. Could do with a fucking friend being here," she smiles back at him, "Specially one like you. And no, I'm not flirting before you ask when I say this. I think your kinda cute, and tall, nice hair, everything. And... now I'm making things weird."  
  
Anders just snorted shaking his head, "Not in the bloody least. I like your blue hair, though, think you'd look better with it being red and black, sweetheart. Suit you better."  
  
"Wait... theres hair dye here? YES!" Dan fisted the air when she grinned, "So gonna get me some of that!"  
  
"Hair dye? Oohhh no, I can change that for you, with magic. Safer then some Orlesian bullshit," the man winked.  
  
Dan rolled onto her side grinning even more, "Fuck yeah. Do it! Show me them sparkles, magic man."  
  
*********************************  
  
Talan slowly paced around the far too small cabin, wondering where the fuck the other three were. Been hours, simply HOURS now they've been gone. He wont admit that he's a little worried, nope, he won't. Shit, he won't admit he's terrified with all these mortals eyeing him all the time either. He won't admit to anything at all.  
  
He looked down at himself in mortal clothing heaving out yet another sigh. Wasn't allowed to wear what he wanted, wasn't allowed to show his tail off, UGH, wasn't even allowed to be himself for the love of everything. How was he supposed to be Desire, if he had to keep everything under wraps? He just wanted to rip everything off him and walk around nude.  
  
"Should do that," he smirked admiring himself in the mirror, "Oh, I should do that right now."  
  
Talan licked his lips slowly undoing the rather stupid buttons, when the cabin door flung open, the cold air sucking all the heat out when it was slammed shut again.  
  
"Whoa, what the fuck are you wearing?"  
  
"Clothes, apparently," Talan sniffed turning to face the voice, he blinked a couple of times at the strange mortals hair, "What the fuck did you do to your hair!"  
  
"Anders," Dan snickered running a hand over it, "Cut, shaped, and made it more purdy. Wait.. are you dressing or undressing?"  
  
Talan shrugged undoing more buttons on this shirt, "Taking this ridiculous clothing off so I can walk around nude," he kicked off the boots now, "Give those mortals out there something else to talk about, other then my stupid title." The shirt dropped on the floor, but Dan didn't move away from the door when he started unbuttoning pants, "Are you going to stand there all day? Can at least do something then act like a statue."  
  
"Sorry, this is far more entertaining, cat-man. Wanna see how this plays out," she winked up at him, opening the door, "Wanna see Bitchy's face when you strut around start bollock, you know. Me too, come to think of it."  
  
He stopped halfway pulling them down to eye the strange one, "Huh. Which part, me naked or Cassandra's face?"  
  
"Both," she winked again, "Nothing like a strapping fucking man strutting around nude, you know. Or a woman, specially when they've got tits out to here," Dan motions with her hands out front, "Oh, maybe I should join you!"  
  
Talan blinked rapidly now when she started taking off her coat and boots too, "What in the name of everything are you doing! NO! This was my idea, not yours, get your own."  
  
"Awww, but, Bitchy's face," she pouted, "Fine, whatever. Oohhh, don't you like other people nude? Is this a fade spirit thingamabob deal?"  
  
"Now what are you babbling on about? Why is it every-time I want to do something around here," he was getting far too irritated now, slapping his tail on his legs pretty damn hard, "Its either: No, you can't do that or you do what we say! What about me and my rights, hmm? What about what 'I' want?"  
  
Dan slammed the door shut keeping her back to him when she heaved a sigh, "Sorry. You, just go have fun. I ain't gonna stop you, Talan. Just, you know, trying to make friends an all."  
  
"By getting naked? Is that how you make friends, strange one? If so, thats right up my tail!"  
  
"Right up your-" she burst out laugh over her shoulder at him, "Fuck no, I don't make friends easily, cos I'm a complete and utter weirdo. Though, never really thought of making friends in the buff. Make a good conversation piece, 'Hows the weather in Spain,' while your junk just hangs out eating a fucking noodle-cup."  
  
Talan's cheeks puffed out trying not to laugh, then did it anyway while dropping his pants, "Now that, I want to see. Perhaps you should do that then to that Cullen man, while I talk to Cassandra!"  
  
"Naw, its all good, you go have fun, Talan. Oh, you should know one thing though," she sighed looking out the window, "I don't like being a she, okay. I don't like looking at all this everyday. Eh, might be for the best because of my scars and shit."  
  
"And... thats something I need to know because?"  
  
Dan wrinkled her nose up at him, "Anders said to tell you before people wanna jump me bones. Kinda said spirits don't care about mortals sex and shit."  
  
"We don't. We're either neutral or choose to be one. Me," he strutted to the door, "I like being a man. Like whats between my fucking legs, Danny. Now do hurry up, I have people to 'Make friends with.'"  
  
*********************************  
  
"You are- are- Words cannot even describe what I'm ever thinking right now!"  
  
"At least he has clothes on now, Cassandra," Leliana bit the inside of her cheek from laughing at the other womans face, "Nothing wrong with, running free, no."  
  
The Seeker sputtered, going bright red, "That is not the POINT! We are supposed to make an impression-"  
  
"Certainly did make an impression," Josephine giggled.  
  
Talan waved his hand up in the air, "Why are you mortals always so... twitchy when it comes to certain things. Its as if you've never seen nudity before, or two men kissing, or a spirit with the most spectacular tail you've ever seen!"  
  
"It was the fact," Cassandra spoke out slowly, "There were Revered Mothers here, Talan. Officials, who could of helped us. And you walked around everyone in the NUDE! Sweet Maker preserve me."  
  
"Oh pish posh. Twitchy, thats what you are. Ugh. See, Danny, not allowed to do what I want."  
  
Dan leaned on his arm, waggling her finger at Cassandra, "I know how that feels. I found out what a Blood Mage is by the way. Thats fucking sick, Bitchy. Calling me something like that, when I had no fucking clue what the fuck it is! Fucking hell."  
  
"Did you just call me Bitchy? I do not bitch!" Cassandra's face was getting redder and redder the angrier she got, "I am NOT a bitch, Danny! I still do not know who you are, what you are, nothing. I do not trust either of you."  
  
"Okay, I'm done," Dan wiped her hands at the woman backing out the room, "Fuck you later, Bitchy."  
  
Talan scooped her up and flung her over his shoulder, while he ducked under the doorway running with her out from the Chantry. Both of them laughing pretty fucking hard running past Varric and Anders as they stood by a tent. Dan grinned over the giant mans shoulder, waving a hand at both of them going through the gates to beyond. Eh, even if she couldn't be a man, she at least made a couple of friends being in this fucking foreign place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thats as far as anything got...
> 
> Yes, Desires name was Talan like the Hawke Talan, lol.  
> I kinda like the Qunari word for 'Truth' for things!


	7. From these emerald waters doth life begin anew. (Part one)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chant of Light verses: Canticle of Andraste - 
> 
> Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls.  
> From these emerald waters doth life begin anew.  
> Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you.  
> In my arms lies Eternity.
> 
> -Andraste 14:11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I've ever done a crossover/mash-up.  
> Its not going to be some jump from Dishonored right into Dragon Age. Nope, theres some funky stuff and MAJOR time-line alteration.
> 
> If you've not played Dragon Age (Any of them.) May not get certain reference's throughout the story. I honestly don't want to give too much away. I really don't.
> 
> **Warning. Please heed** : Child Abuse, rape, underage prostitution, drowning. (I did put the tags up top as well, but I'm still warning you)

**The Sirens Sorrow of Aislinn Doyle PT1**  
  
**Year of Our Lord: 1902.**  
  
The waves gently rocked the boat bobbing on its surface. First light of dawn peaked over the horizon, little fingers of God touched the heavens through the clouds caressing the waters. Gulls screeched overhead as small fishing nets were hauled from the mid-depths, fish jumping trying to escape both fates laid out for them.  
  
"Boyo, fish be plenty."  
  
"Aye Niall, they are."  
  
Aislinn ignored her father and uncle, far more interested in watching the silver flecks of fish that escaped those nets, those beaks, swimming away under the hull of the boat. Her little fingers trailed in the salty water with how far she was reaching, the spray chapping her already sore lips. She never liked coming to fish with either of them, never will do. A nine year old girl needs to be with her mother, not men who sing bawdy songs on the high seas, on the low shores smelling like last nights drinking.  
  
But her mother was long gone now, so were her sisters, her brother. All buried underground, all of them. And all she had was those two who were being lewd again. A nine year old girl doesn't need that at all.  
  
"Lass, quit yer daydreaming," her uncle called, but she ignored him peering into the deep blue beyond, "Aislinn Doyle, get yer arse over here and trawl! Heavens above, yer girl needs a good hiding, boyo."  
  
She can hear her father tell his brother he already has, she hates them both. Her fingers still skimmed the brine, wanting to go home now, wanting her mother back. Wanting a lot of things a nine year old girl shouldn't want on the waves around the Isle of Man. She wanted to go back home to Ireland, she wanted to stab her uncle in the eye when he grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her away from the side of the boat.  
  
"Ungrateful little bitch," her body collides with nets full of wriggling fish. Hooks dig into her arms when he does it again, not her hair this time, no, he grabs her by the throat lifting her small body up off the deck, "If yer won't listen to yer father," his breath smells like stale whiskey on her face, "yer will listen to me, lass."  
  
Aislinn's head snaps back, stinging her eyes from the backhand he gave her still gripping her neck tight. Salty tears roll down her face mingling with the brine, her father just hauled the nets up ignoring everything while her uncle beats her. He doesn't backhand her this time, his fist hits her right in her eye, then in her stomach as her back was pressed against the port side of the boat. She feels like she can't breathe at all, even though he lets her drop to the deck again.  
  
"Niall, storm rolling in. An fast too."  
  
Her uncle kicks her in the chest before he leaves her there slumping against fish. The smell clung to her nose, trying to breathe, trying not to cry. A nine year old girl with her face in dead an dying fish, shouldn't want to die with them.  
  
The boat rocked over the waves, the once gentle rolls bobbing over the blue, was dipping the boat. Wind picked up, rocking the small vessel like a see-saw, the smell of lightening in the air raced over her blooded lips where she bit down hard on her tongue. One thing all fishermen hate, is an unannounced storm ruining their trawling. Aislinn wanted to giggle at that pushing away from the now dead fish.  
  
She pulled herself up to the side of the boat again, peering over the edge, small drops of blood mingled with the salt spray hitting her face. Her tongue twitched with the taste with how high the waves were rocking them now. She could see in the distance, more boats and ships bobbing on the blue, trying to go back to shore before the storm hits proper.  
  
Aislinn knew they might not make it with how her father and uncle still hauled their nets. She hated them both.  
  
Something caught her eye on the edge of her blurring vision, something large coming closer to them. It looked silver to her, leaning over the side more, silver and much much longer then the small boat. Bubbles erupted along the surface, the large silver thing getting closer, the sound of a soft song reached her ears. She thinks it came from the bubbles, but it didn't did it? Her eyes go huge when it breached the surface away from them, even her father and uncle dropped everything at the horned whale slapping the water as it went back under, snorting salt water from its blow hole high into the sky.  
  
Her mouth felt dry even with the brine getting into it, "Again," she whispered hoping the whale would listen.  
  
She watched it go deeper and frowned that it didn't at all listen to her. But the rising waves knocked her uncle flat on his back, her father gripping the stern hard in his grasp when it did it again.  
  
Lightening raced over angry maelstrom above, the massive cracks of thunder just made her small hands cover her ears. But she could swear on everything, the sweet song was still there, echoing as much as the thunder was, as loud too. She felt deaf and mute trying to talk, to listen, watching the boats in the distance vanish into the deep, the swirling waters as angry as the sky above.  
  
Maybe, maybe God was punishing them. Punishing her father and uncle too for the beatings they give her. She hopes he was, she hopes he smites them all when the boat dipped dangerously. But she still leaned over the side watching the other trawlers try and get back to port, more small boats bobbed and never came back up. Lightening struck the water, rain started to pelt the back of her head hard washing the blood and tears away.  
  
But there it was again, the large silver whale breaching the waters. Aislinn smiled letting her ears go to reach out it was that close. She wanted to touch, she wanted to feel its skin under her tiny hands. She wanted to ride the whale back down into the deep. It slapped the water again going back under and so did Aislinn when the boat tipped, sending her into the deep blue along with everything else.  
  
Dead fish and nets covered her as she sank, her little hands still reaching out for the whale gulping lungs full of the brine. The whale was there, watching, waiting, the lower she goes.  
  
Her father sunk beside her, his own nets wrapped around his neck trying to tear them away with his knife, hooks sunk deep in his cheeks ripping them. His eyes bulged wide as his hands twitched letting the knife go, his legs thrashing, his mouth gasping like a fish on deck trying to breathe. Aislinn sucked in more salt water watching him die in-front of her. She didn't care, she didn't care about her uncle either, hopefully he was already dead. She sucked in another lung full of water, it burned trying to push it all back out for air that wasn't there.  
  
But the sweet song of the whale soothed her sinking even more into darkness. It soothed her still reaching out to touch. It soothed the nine year old little girl as she smiled, closing her eyes going into the black void beyond. 

* * *

  
"Of all the things I have seen," he watches the mass of fish and nets sprawled out on the ground, "that certainly is the strangest."  
  
Water drifted slowly upward and down. Rivulets of the brine he can taste on his lips, lazily went every direction away from the mass right there. Fish gaped and gasped, but many were long dead by now. But yet, those that still had life in them chased the brine with every dying breath. The more the water ran away, the more the fish chased the last drops of it, he saw a pair of very blue little feet poke out from under it all.  
  
"Interesting."  
  
He won't interfere, he wants to watch what happens. More so when the song of a whale caught his ear in the distance, a song he knows called to him. He was always one to watch, but this, all this, was strange even to him when he found the source in his home. Even more strange was the whale with horns bound in red, one he's never seen guided him to the mass right there before dissipating into nothing.  
  
So he sat there, perched above the mass of water, nets and fish. He sat there watching the little blue feet twitch. He smirked when they twitched again and so did a small hand when it was lifted from the mass, reaching out, grabbing at nothing.  
  
"Seems this one is strong," he ponders out loud when another little hand was lifted, shifting everything that was on the small body laying there, "You can do it, little fish."  
  
The child's face revealed itself under everything, dark hair wrapping around her head like seaweed, her skin was still blue when she coughed. Water poured from her very dark purple lips when she coughed again, her entire body shaking from the cold. But he won't interfere, little fish can do this all by herself.  
  
Little fingers still grasped at nothing in-front of her, brine still poured from purple lips, but her eyes blinked open. He wasn't one to miss the smile that was on her face before she expelled the water from her lungs, she no longer had it on now when her body spasmed, her eyes going wide curling into a ball on her side. But still, he perched there watching one he's never seen before, one he's never had dreams or desires from either.  
  
One little fish in the ocean of many he has no connection to at all.  
  
The girl hacked and coughed every last drop of water from her lungs, choking as she heaved out bile onto the ground. "Again," he heard her whisper, to which he wondered what the child was referring to.  
  
He heard it again when she stiffly went on all fours, her dark hair trailing in her own bile and expelled brine, little drips of water mixed with red ran down her chin. He knows the sight of blood, he knows the sight of one who's been hurt by another when she sat back on her legs. Her skin was still blue, but tinge of pink traced over her cheeks as she looked about herself.  
  
"Am I-" she coughed trying to stand only to fall back down again on weak legs, "Ow. This, this isn't heaven, is it?"  
  
"No little fish."  
  
The little girl startled hearing his voice, her dark blue red rimmed eyes blinked at him, he can now clearly see a blackeye, bruises around her neck on her cheeks, both her lips were split and swollen when she tried to stand again.  
  
"Wher-where am I? Hell?" her voice was rough and raspy, spittle and blood dripped down her front.  
  
He smirked shaking his head, "No little fish, this is the Void. My home." He vanished from his perch, which just made the little girl fall over when he appeared next to her to speak again, "And you, little fish, have made a mess right in it."  
  
She frowned up at him from her position, "My names Aislinn, not little fish. What happened to the whale?"  
  
"I will call you what I wish, little fish. But as for your friend," he crouched down to her, "they perished unfortunately. You are a strange one. Where did you come from?"  
  
Aislinn slowly sat up, her hand slipped on one of the many dead fish. Her face wrinkled up when she spat on it, "They were fishing them. I hate fishing. I hate them too. Both of them, I hope their dead."  
  
"Does not answer my question, lit-"  
  
"IT DOES!" she shouted at him, "I WAS FISHING WITH THEM! I HATE THEM!"  
  
Well, she was definitely strong, even if she was evading his very simple question. She wasn't crying, no, she wasn't. She was angry, very very angry as she shook sitting there pushing the dead fish away.  
  
"Very well. Keep your secrets all you want. But you will tell me one day, little fish. You will tell me. Now," he held out his hand to the girl, "you can't stay here, unless you want to remain sitting on dead fish and bile."  
  
Aislinn knocked his hand out the way, standing up on her weak and shaking legs by herself. She looked about more, then back up at him, "Where is out? Is this a dream? Am I dreaming again?"  
  
He never said anything when he pointed into the distance. She followed his out stretched arm with her head, her red rimmed dark blue eyes squinting at the shimmer beyond them. He sighed pushing her shoulder to move. Whatever fate lays for her that way, was one he would try and attempt watch. For the strange little fish had peaked his curiosity indeed.

* * *

* * *

* * *

**The Sirens Sorrow of Aislinn Doyle. PT2**  
  
**1832\. The Month of Nets.**  
  
"Get back 'ere you fucking little bitch!"  
  
Aislinn pounded her legs on the ground as she ran away from them, her bare feet avoiding the muck that covered the cobbles. Her arms clutched her prize against her chest, dodging through the crowds of people, they clutched it tight when she ducked out the way of hands trying to grab her.  
  
The men chased her through Gaff Street, they've been chasing her for what feels like hours now through bloody Dunwall. She wanted what they had, not like they would of missed a few scraps of hagfish as it was. Something brushed her now loose hair, almost snagging it when she ran past. Aislinn would look if she wasn't trying to get back to her hidey hole.  
  
"Stay where you are." Ah, the Watch then. For her? Or for the men chasing her? Not like she cared still clutching her prize close to her chest.  
  
Shots rung out behind her, she didn't smirk at all darting around the corner. She could use one of those pistols herself, but not right now when she kept on running. One day she will, one day she will take one from a dead City Watch. But this twelve year old girl needed food in her belly before a nice shiny pistol right now.  
  
Her hidey hole was getting closer, but so were a many more footfalls behind. Rattles and clanks of the City Watch chasing her as much as those bastard thugs were. Can't she just have this right now? She needs this hagfish even though she hates fish with a passion. Aislinn was a bit skinny as it was, but not as skinny as most the orphans she's come across these past few years.  
  
She was just another street urchin. At least she didn't beg. At least she didn't whore herself out like the others do. Aislinn wasn't into any of that at all. She twelve, not fifteen.  
  
More shots echoed behind her, a bullet whizzed right by her ear ricocheting on the wall. 'Too close,' she thinks sliding on the wet ground through the broken grate, 'Far too close.'  
  
Aislinn's feet touched the water on the other side, she was home now and there was nothing those men can do. Not one of them. She had her prize, even if the smell revolted the living crap out of her. But no, she needed to eat, making her way to the place she sat to listen. Maybe she should move her hidey hole near the docks so she can listen for them better. Aislinn smirked at that thought, she will, when she gets a pistol.  
  
"Linn, you down here?"  
  
She giggled, "Yeah. Got hagfish, not much but enough."  
  
The older boy she made friends with grinned, then almost fell flat on his face coming through the grate, "Bugger it. That lot out there are fighting again," he mumbled, "You do that?"  
  
"Maybe," her legs swung on the broken backed chair, "They drop anything this time, Reid?"  
  
"They ain't done fighting yet, Linn. How much hagfish you got?"  
  
Aislinn put the small package on her lap wrapped up in one of her old shirts, "Did say not much, but its enough. Could do with a loaf of bread too, but-" she shrugged divvying her bounty with her friend, "Reid, you know what happened to Laney? She was supposed to meet me."  
  
His face fell, then just shoved the hagfish in his mouth so he didn't have to speak. Aislinn frowned at him when he went to do it again, grabbing his wrist, she noticed the bruise marks around them.  
  
"Reid, whats going on? What did you do?"  
  
"She went to whore herself out as usual. But she wasn't there this time. So," his face fell even more slumping to the ground, then winced lifting his backside up, "they got me instead."  
  
She shoved the food onto the floor, grabbing his collar so his face was right in hers. Whiskey. She could smell the bitter tang of whiskey on his breath when she shoved him away too. Reid winced again, gritting his teeth as he glared right at her, "Don't fucking judge me, Linn. I made money didn't I!" he spat pushing her away from him now.  
  
"By waving your arse in the air?" she spat back disgusted, "By sucking dick for a few coppers? Why Reid, why?"  
  
"How else we gonna make a living in this shithole, huh? Don't you dare fucking judge me for trying to help you out too."  
  
Anger seethed through her core, anger, disgust, and pity ran rampant through her as she paced. He said he would never do that, he promised her he would NEVER whore himself out for anyone, for a few pieces of coin.  
  
Laney and Reid found her those three years ago, wandering alone, coming from the Void through the streets still covered in blood and brine. The one who called her little fish left her alone, as much as everyone else has ever done. And now, and now her friend was- "Get me a pistol, Reid. Get me a bloody pistol and a sword, then I'll forgive you."  
  
"Fine," he pushed himself up off the floor, "Fine, I'll get them. What you gonna do when I get them?"  
  
"I'll kill the people who hurt you, Reid. I'll kill them all."

* * *

  
To say she wasn't very good with the pistol, was a slight understatement when her shot veered left and wide. She managed to get the bastard in his thigh though, the rivulets of blood running down his leg onto the cobbles as he tried to back away from her on his arse.  
  
To say she enjoyed putting a bullet right between his eyes, wasn't an understatement at all. The mans head splintered outward, smearing the stone wall behind him with his brain and blood, little bits hit her face when she did it again in his chest. Aislinn smirked at the tang on her lips, salty and coppery, when she licked it away. This twelve year old girl just killed her second man who hurt Reid the week previous, who hurt Laney too.  
  
No, this little girl shouldn't be doing any of this at all, but she did putting the pistol away. She did, stepping back to look the dead man over before she turned her back on him for her home. The smell of shit and piss hit her nose long after the smell of blood did. She retched a bit at it. She retched again when Laney grabbed her arm then dragged her away from the back-ally.  
  
"You wanna get locked up? Void take it all, Aislinn. Your covered in blood," her friend was angry with her, "you smell like a slaughterhouse."  
  
"Better that then sex," she snarked ripping her hand free, "Rather smell like that then some whorehouse, Laney."  
  
Aislinn landed on her side at the fist in her mouth the young woman gave her. She flinched when Laney's hand was raised again, she let it drop to point instead, "You just shut your chuffin' mouth. You just keep it the fuck shut, you hear me. I'm doing this for Reid, for you, Aislinn. I'm doing this for the both of you!"  
  
"Like what he's doing in back-ally's as well? I did that for both you too!" she hissed through her bloody teeth, "Don't tell me to shut up. If I wanna speak, I will."  
  
"Void take you whelping. Get up," Laney roughly grabbed her arm when she didn't move, "I said GET UP!"  
  
She spat blood in her friends face, kicking at her legs to get away. Ever since she's been whoring at the Golden Cat, Laney's been getting more and more aggressive, towards her, towards Reid, towards anyone, and Aislinn hated it when she finally broke free. The pistol fell from her belt when she tried to run away, Laney was effing and blinding behind her like mad, then stopped when a shot went out.  
  
Aislinn tripped over the belt that slipped down around her ankles, her head hit the ground hard making her vision go swimmy. Even through the blurriness of her eyes, even through the pain in her temple, she could see Laney clutching her stomach from her knees. Aislinn's mouth parted at her friend's hand covered in blood, pouring out over her fingers from the gut wound. Oh, no, no, no, "LANEY!"  
  
Panic ripped through her kicking the belt away from her feet, her hands held out when her friend just slumped, the hand that held her stomach folded up under her fallen body. Aislinn, she, she just accidentally killed her friend. "No," whimpered from her blooded lips, "No," she whimpered again as someone yelled in the distance for the Watch. Reid's going to kill her when he finds out. She needed to go hide, she, she needed that new hidey hole.  
  
Aislinn turned tail and fled the scene. She turned her back on Laney's dead body as much as she did those two men she murdered.  
  
But she didn't cry running through the darkened streets, no, she didn't cry. She just ran as fast as her legs could carry her away from here.

* * *

  
Sleep didn't come easy that night. She tossed and turned on the sodden pile under her, she tossed and turned thinking to when Reid would find her, then slit her throat for what she did. No, she needed to move her hidey hole away from here, away from Reid, away from the whoring, away from everything.  
  
No, for the first time in years, she want to go home to Ireland again. The place she'll never see, never feel the rain gently rolling down her brow, the sun warming the lush emerald green grass. No, she'll never see anything like that again being in a place thats not home at all, "Where is home then?" she mumbles under her breath.  
  
"Little fish, home is where your head lays."  
  
She knows that voice. That very same voice she hasn't heard in years. Aislinn peaks one eye open, then grins to where she is. The Void.  
  
"Home is where I ain't gonna get stabbed in the kidneys," she snarked back at him, but not unkindly rolling onto her front. And there he was, the one with black eyes smirking at her from his crouch on a floating rock.  
  
"Ahh, thats also very true. Tell me little fish, what brings you here?" his heads tilts, but still had that smirk planted right there.  
  
Aislinn pouts laying her head on the cold stone under her, fingers bunch up her far too long shirt around her hands, then blows out a very unlady like raspberry, "I killed my friend."  
  
"No, you killed two men who would of done far worse to either of them. She died because the pistol went off half-cocked, little fish. Laney was a fool, more so when she struck you."  
  
"I... suppose. But she was still my friend, who's brother's gonna slice me up like a little fish you keep calling me."  
  
The one with black eyes brushes her long black hair away from her face, the smirk was now replaced with a frown, "And what do you propose to do about it? Hide? Kill him back? No, your going to pout, aren't you."  
  
"Probably. You know," she pushes his hand away from her hair, it falls back in her face when he vanishes, "its been three years. Three bloody years since I seen you. Why now?"  
  
"Your vocabulary's certainly improved since then. Maybe you wanted to see me in my own home, little fish. Have you thought of that? Are you going to tell me what you wouldn't tell me back then?"  
  
Aislinn pushed herself upright, then tucked her stupid hair in the back of the over-sized shirt. She didn't want to say, but maybe she should. She's never told anyone else where she actually came from at all. She never told Reid, she never told Laney, nobody. Her fingers skim down her torn pants licking her bottom where it was split again, then shook her head looking up at him.  
  
"Not like it matters any more, does it?"  
  
The black eyed one hummed, his hands folded under his arms over his chest, but he never said anything for some time when she got up off the ground. Her face hardened at him the longer he didn't say anything. So, she turned her back on him like she's done with everything else, she turned around to look over the Void. The strangeness of it all didn't frighten her the first time, it doesn't frighten her now.  
  
Even his black eyes never scared her, though she did wonder-  
  
"You will tell me one day. It'll tumble over your lips, pouring out as much as wine from bottles," he was right behind her, she can feel it, "Your still a strange one to me, little fish. Still can't see, feel, know anything about you. If you were anyone else, I'd say you were blocking me. But your not," fingers go through her hair, pulling it out from the back of her collar, "your just an oddity to me."  
  
Aislinn snorted like a pig, waving her hands in the overlong sleeves around them, "Me? What 'bout all this then? Like some fuzzed up dream. I'm the oddity? The... strange one? Sure, whatever you say, big fish."  
  
"Big fish?" his face came into view over the top of her head when she looked up, "I'll let you have that, little fish. So what do you intend to do with your friend Reid?"  
  
"Buggered if I know. Keep away from him I suppose. Need a new hidey hole as it is," and there she goes pouting again, "You think I can come back here?"  
  
"I will let you in on a secret, little fish," his lips were right near her ear, his breath smelt like the brine she knows well, "Trouble is coming. I won't tell you when, or how, or why, but it's coming. Prepare yourself, arm yourself and get stronger, little fish. Who knows," his voice sounded more and more distant as though she was walking away from him, "you may come back here before then. Or you may not."  
  
Aislinn looked over her shoulder, he looked so far away. Her brows knit together trying to stop herself from walking away, parting her lips to say, "I, wanna come back though. Wait-" she turned around with fingers and hands outstretched, feeling as though she was falling away from everything, "I don't wanna to go yet!"  
  
She didn't miss the sad look on his face as she fell, she didn't miss the look of pain when he turned his back on her this time. She didn't miss her own tears jerking awake on the sodden piles of clothes under her. She didn't miss home at all. She wanted to go back to the Void where it felt like home instead.

* * *

* * *

* * *

**The Sirens Sorrow of Aislinn Doyle. PT3**  
  
**1833\. The Month of Darkness.**  
  
He found her over a year later. He found her sneaking out from some posh fucks home, arms full of trinkets she could sell for a good amount. He found her and followed her back to her new home near the slaughterhouse. Reid stopped her before she could go inside, his breath and fine clothes reeked of stale whiskey, of cheap cigars, of sex sneering in her face.  
  
Aislinn dropped everything on the ground when he pushed her hard against the wall, spit hit her face when he growled through his drunken lips, "Your gonna pay, Linn."  
  
"What the fuck you talking 'bout, Reid?" as if she didn't bloody know, but he knew, and she knew by the fire in his eyes pushing his arm against her throat on the wall.  
  
She knew the moment his sneer turned into a crooked grin, grabbing her hair hard pulling her head back, far too far back. She flinched at the hot stale whiskey breath against her cheek, the stiffness in his pants that frightened everything out of her, pushing it hard into her hips. Aislinn knew what was coming next, she's seen it, she's put a bullet in the back of mens heads for it.  
  
But she didn't have her pistol on her right now, she didn't have her daggers, her sword at hand as Reid yanked her away from the wall then pushed her face down on the ground.  
  
Aislinn kicked her legs as much as she could with his weight on-top of her, she tried to buck free from his hold on her hair. She'd rip the whole lot out if it means he didn't sticking his fucking dick in her.  
  
"Stop," passed her lips feeling her short pants being roughly pulled down, her face pushed further into the dirt under her mouth, "stop, please," she muffled out.  
  
Reid slammed her head on the ground, then again forcing his legs between hers, "You killed her," he spat, "You fucking killed her, left her to rot in the fucking street."  
  
She tried to speak, trashing her arms and legs about trying to break free, but a muffled scream came out instead when he forced himself in her. Her eyes bulged right out of her head the more she struggled, and the more she struggled, the more he forced himself in her.  
  
She wanted to vomit when he moaned, she wanted to scream into oblivion if her mouth wasn't full of muck and blood. Hot stinging tears caked her face when his hips started to bump her arse, his dick in the place she never wanted to be touched by anyone. Her legs still kicked, her hands trying to reach behind her to stop him. Reid just slammed her head on the ground by her hair again, dazing her, her body going limp briefly.  
  
But she could feel him through her daze, she could feel his legs spreading hers more ripping her pants, feel his dick forcing its way inside again where it slipped out. Stuttering breaths escaped her swollen lips as he ground her in the dirt, in the back-ally where no-one was going to see him do it. The hard, frantic pace on her just jerked her partially limp body, her swollen bruised lips scraped the ground, filling her mouth with even more dirt, with more blood biting down on her tongue.  
  
"Bitch," he groaned in the back of her head, "Fucking bitch."  
  
She screamed when teeth broke her skin at the nape of her neck, she screamed in the dirt as her neck was ravished completely by Reid. Rivulets of blood ran into her already wet face, his pace never slowed once. "Whore," he whispered as though he was talking to some lover, "Not enough man for you, huh."  
  
Vomit came from her mouth then when he roughly pulled out from her, she felt something warm hit her now unclothed back. Vomit, blood, dirt and tears mingled with everything under her as Reid forced himself on her again. She was limp laying there, she was limp and disgusting when her hair finally got let go. Aislinn's head rolled to one side with each jerk against her, her eyes moving to look down the ally exit.  
  
Her dark blue eyes just stared into nothingness, her face still scraping against the ground. She just wanted him to go away now. She just wanted him to finish so she could go away too, collect what she dropped and sell it.  
  
Reid grunted loud, the sound like a thousand nails raking down a chalking board. But her eyes never left the nothingness, fingers digging into stone, nails getting torn away the more she dug into them. Warmth touched the backs of her thighs when he pulled out one last time, spit hit her face when he got off her. His foot caught her ribs, breaking some when he kicked hard before he left her laying there in the dirt.  
  
Aislinn just laid there still digging her fingers into the ground unable to move. Just laid watching him leave. Laid there when his head exploded in a shower of red, his body falling like a lead weight on the ground. She laid there not saying anything, at something being dropped on his now dead body from the person slowly walking up to her. Her eyes blurred too much to see who it is, but whoever it was, knelt a few feet away.  
  
She wanted them to say something, her eyes were growing heavy keeping them open. But nothing was said at all. Not a word, even as a heavy soft weight was being placed over her battered and used body.  
  
No, nothing was said when her eyes didn't open. Nothing at all.

* * *

  
_Green flickered in her face, it flickered and breathed like a living thing. Hanging in midair, it looked like a crystal growing from nothing. But a deep resounding hum came from it, a sound that rattled her bones in her body like a forgotten song. The white whale swam out from behind it, she smiled reaching out to skim her fingers over its skin._  
  
_It shifted, the world around her shifted standing high up in a fortress, snow was laden on the outside, but nothing touched the inside. For it was warm, as though it was summer where winter was in the mountains. People, she thinks some of them are people, ran around carrying boxes. One of them had horns on his head like the devil. But no tail or hooves. A walking stick was on his back like the one with the pointy ears had as well._  
  
_The world shifted again from the warm fortress to the sound of music, the sound of footsteps and swishing fabric._  
  
_"Well, well, what have we here," the silky smooth dark haired woman slowly walked down a set of steps to the devil, who's skin was pale grey, its eyes the colour of blue ice. Both of them sang a quiet song, wasn't loud, but she could hear it watching them talk. A ball was going on in the other room, people span and danced in gowns and fine clothing. But they all wore masks to hide their faces._  
  
_Now she was looking at something growing from the ground. Blue in colour, very very blue. Like whale oil. It sang, it sang like she was drowning all over again. It sang like a whales song deep in her ears when she reached out to touch the blue crystal. A heartbeat came from deep within, came from deep within the mountains around her. It filled her soul with joy hearing it echo._  
  
_It was gone when a loud roar went over head, purple flames came from its mouth. Thousands and thousands of hideous looking creatures snapped and snarled as they fought people in clothes she's never seen before. The huge winged monster landed in the battling mass, setting everything on fire._  
  
_"Its the only way, Alistair," a womans voice whispered to another in silver and blue armour, his hands were cupping her face as they embraced, tears rolled down his cheeks when she broke free. A massive sword held firmly in her hands charging at the hulking thing, the man still had his hands cupping air when everything exploded in white light._  
  
_Another explosion happened behind her, the colour as red as blood reaching high up into the sky. Swirling rocks from a building crashed down when it exploded outward, a man with blond hair crackled in blue, slamming the walking stick down as he spoke, "There can be no peace." She wanted to touch him, the song was crescendoing in her ears from the man bathed in blue. She wanted to bathe herself in it too, to taste it on her tongue._  
  
_She wanted to ride the white horned whale down in the depths of the deep emerald green, that beckoned like a long forgotten memory._  
  
  
Aislinn's eyes fly open, panting heavily looking up at an unknown ceiling. Panic went through her trying to turn over, the dream slipping away like water looking about herself. She had no idea where she was falling out of the bed. Pain wracked her body hitting the floor boards hard.  
  
Then she remembered what happened. What Reid did to her. What he did to her in the dirt, in the muck. She felt dirty curling up in a ball on her side, choking out quiet sounds that weren't sobs, just strangled little sounds escaping her lips. Aislinn vomited right on the floor, she was soiled, sullied, dirty, filthy laying on the floor in a place she didn't know. Reid raped her, he stuck his fucking dick in her and raped her out of spite.  
  
"Hey, hey, kid," Aislinn froze at the unfamiliar voice in the same room, "He's dead. He's not going hurt you, alright."  
  
The unfamiliar voice got a little closer, "I'm not going hurt you either. I'm Billie," the womans face comes into view now over the edge of the bed, "your safe here."  
  
Aislinn's bottom lip quivered looking up, her hair felt like it trailed in her own vomit again like it did years before, scooting away from Billie. She had no reason to trust this woman, she had no reason to trust anyone now. She had no reason for anything when her back hit the far wall well away.  
  
"I, I don't care," she mumbled wiping away spit from her mouth, salt from her eyes, "Leave me alone."  
  
Billie sighed quietly sitting on the edge of the bed, "Kid, your lucky I was the one to find you, not someone else. Someone who could of done far worse, trust me on that. He's dead, he's never going to hurt you or anyone else again. You don't have to trust me, you don't have to trust anything about me at all. But," she put her finger up when Aislinn went to spit fire at her, "I cleaned you up. I gave you my bed, my blankets, clothes, and now, warm broth. You can leave after you've eaten. Thats your choice. But I won't be there next time to help."  
  
Something both didn't feel right, but did at the same time. Something almost familiar sunk into her clammy skin, something that felt like home then got snapped away as fast as she felt it. She wanted to ask the older woman what it was, but kept her mouth clamped shut looking away from pitying eyes. Aislinn's nothing but filth now, Sullied and soiled when she wanted nothing to do with any of that. He took that from her, he took that one small piece of innocence she wanted to keep hold of. But now its gone.  
  
Her soul was forever marred by him. Forever etched inside and out, running her fingers over the wounds on the back of her neck.  
  
"Only help I need," she side-eyed the woman about to leave, "is at the end of a barrel. The only help I need is a sword in the gut when I drive it in. I don't need your fucking pity," Aislinn spat, "I've lost everything now, that one small piece I tried to keep close is gone along with it. Can you get that back for me? Didn't think so."  
  
"I know. And I'm sorry. Stay here as long as you want, but as soon as you leave those doors, you leave for the streets again and don't come back here. Your on your own."  
  
The door shut behind Billie, the room was quiet now besides her low breathing as she shook against the wall. She wanted to go back to her dream again, she wanted to see the people who looked like nothing shes seen here, seen back there either. She wanted to know what the song that sounded like whales was.

* * *

  
**The Month of Seeds.**  
  
She found her first charm, broken, but it was a charm nonetheless. Aislinn kept it close to her chest hanging from the tarnished silver chain she stole. She had no idea what it once did, she didn't care running her fingers over the broken bone. Felt right to wear it, it just felt right.  
  
But still, she sat there up on the roof watching the woman who months previous helped her. She was with others wearing masks like those damn whalers wear, wearing different colours then the rest of them, all except one. That familiar tug came from him, felt right but wrong. Aislinn didn't know whether she liked it or not. She didn't think she liked him very much either. But, as her mother told her a long time ago, 'Can't judge a book by it's cover.'  
  
"Daud," she heard Billie say the mans name pulling her mask down, "You sure?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Aislinn wondered what they were talking about. She wondered if she should care or not. But something was bothering her about them all, about Billie too. Something was bothering her about the man named Daud. Something right there on the edge like the bitter tang of whiskey on-  
  
"Stop it," she pushed all that out way, she pushed it all far away from her still watching them all down there.  
  
They all split up from one another, Billie one way, the man Daud another. She could follow them if she wants to, but she won't, running her fingers over the broken bone. No, she had something in mind right now going back through the broken window. But yet-  
  
One foot was still just outside, hanging in midair looking back down at them all. Daud was standing right in view of her to see. He was standing there watching her half in, half out the window. Aislinn should feel afraid with the man watching her behind that fucking mask she's learned to hate. For they mean death to the whales, means they butcher them for their precious cargo they have in them.  
  
"You gonna come down kid? Or are you just-" Aislinn fell into the room backwards when he just appeared right there on the other side, "-gonna sit there all day."  
  
"What you want! You ain't fucking having me!"  
  
"That what you think? I'm not interested in that, kid, never have been, never will be. So your safe on all that," he held out his hand stepping through the broken window, "Your the one Lurk helped, aren't you."  
  
Aislinn frowned at him, knocking his hand well away from her as she stood, "Lurk? Who the chuff's Lurk? Only one who hel-"  
  
"Billie Lurk, kid. She helped you, and you walked right on out without a thanks to her. Right back out on the streets when we could of helped you. She never even got your name."  
  
There is was a again, that familiar tug she felt earlier, felt months before, felt just before he popped right up here. Her mouth parted at the faint glow on the back of his left hand, the feeling she's only felt a few times, but she's exactly what it is.  
  
"The Void," fell out of her mouth staring at the back of his hand, "Thats the Void. How?"  
  
Daud cocked his head slightly, then nodded taking his mask off tucking that under his arm, "So you can feel it. He Marked me as much as those before, during and no doubt after me too. Your not marked though. So..." his brows knit stepping closer to her, "how can you feel it, kid?"  
  
"Who Marked you? No, you know what, I don't wanna know. I feel it because, because-" her mouth went instantly dry backing away from him. No, she won't tell him, she won't- "I don't know you, I don't care. Billie wants to know my name, tell her... tell her it was Aislinn."  
  
As she normally does, she turned her back and fled well away from him. She ran and ran as far as she could, for she was no longer that little girl from Ireland. That part of her was buried, buried along with that last part of innocence she tried to keep, for this sullied thing had nothing left to loose any more. Dreams or no, this one was gonna burn a trail of fire behind her.

 


	8. From these emerald waters doth life begin anew. (Part two)

**The (Dis)Honourable Defiance of Delinquency PT1**

**1837\. Present day.**  
  
Someone was following him. Someone right on the edge of his vision. Everytime he turned slightly to see, there was nobody there. Corvo ground his teeth behind his mask for being jumpy. Ever since The Outsider gave him the mark filling his void taken soul, he's been nothing but jumpy. Bah. He had better things to do then be some jumpy child.  
  
He kept his head down putting his hand out to blink to the next building. He needed to get this down to a fine art, first time trying it outside the Void, he nearly fell to his death. Thank everything he had the mask on, otherwise whoever was watching would of seen the embarrassment etch his face, flailing his arms to stop himself hitting the ground. Emily would of had several laughs at him for it though.  
  
"Shit."  
  
Corvo crouched on the roof opposite the pub, looking over the waters thinking about her, about Jessamine. If only he had the mark right there and then, none of this would of happened, the Empress wouldn't be dead, Emily wouldn't be hauled up somewhere alone. And he wouldn't of been locked up for months for it all.  
  
 _I failed them all. I failed my own-_  
  
There it was again closer this time, but whoever was following him was right there. A shadow seemed to stretch, then vanish when he looked over his shoulder. Gone again before he could see.  
  
"Enough tricks," his teeth clenched together, "Not in the mood for games."  
  
A chuckle startled everything out of him, falling into his backside at the person right in-front. Yup, another embarrassment right there. Void take it all, he's just too jumpy.  
  
"No time to play a little hide and go seek?" oh, that... was a womans voice who's own face was covered by a mask. An Overseers mask at that, the mouth section was missing, the emblem of the Abbey replaced with... a sword piercing a flaming eye? _Huh._  
  
"Why are you following me? Do you work for him?"  
  
The woman smirked, he can also see a hooped piercing in the corner of her mouth, a bone piercing, "I work for myself. Mostly. Have done for years now all on my lonesome. Was I following? Sorry, kinda fucking curious, thats all. Another person hiding behind a mask, with a mark I can feel? Why wouldn't I follow."  
  
And now she sounds just like him. Fantastic. Corvo righted himself, brushing the dirt from his coat as he stood. Its then he realised her clothing were similar to the Outsiders, close, but not the same. Now his own curiosity peaked when she cocked her head then looked behind herself to the pub, then back at him, the smirk played on her lips again, "They kinda wanna get going, and your out here playing with yourself."  
  
"I am not!" he sputtered, he could feel his cheeks heat up behind the mask Piero gifted him, "I was-"  
  
"Trying not to kill yourself again. Was fucking funny watching when you did that, by the way."  
  
"Watch your language," he put his hand out to blink away from this, this, stranger. He stopped himself slowly looking back at her, "You have a name, foul mouth?"  
  
There was the smirk again, her legs walking backwards to the edge of the building, "Yeah. Call me... Sullivan Lynch," she jumped off before he could stop her, his hands out trying to grab her, but she was gone when he looked over the edge.  
  
Sullivan Lynch. She... was Sullivan Lynch! Shit, thats all he needs right now. The very same person who's been going around slaughtering anyone who rapes, beats children, gang members and guards who gets in their way, a thief who steals anything thats not nailed down. The one who set fire to the slaughterhouse's, killing whalers. The very same person Emily took a shine too as well, calling Sullivan her 'Hero' and wanted to be just like them.  
  
Wonderful. The very same one who peaked his own interest as well, was even more now. Well, he was officially in trouble. And Corvo knew it blinking right on over to the roof of the Hound. Bad enough the black eyed one- Nope, not right now. If the Loyalists needed him for something, he needed to go do it instead of playing with himself. He, actually snorted a laugh at that, he felt like he hasn't laughed in a long time, but she, whoever Sullivan Lynch was, actually got to make the angry sullen one to laugh.  
  
"Corvo? Whats so funny?"  
  
He slipped his mask off, tucking it in his pocket while he shrugged at Farley, "Nothing, not important. So," he wiped the look from his shadowed face, "whats the plan?"

* * *

  
Samuel was talking to him, but his mind was else where sitting on the riverboat. High Overseer Campbell of all people, knew where Emily was. But yet, something was bothering him about it all. Something right there on the edge of reasoning. And then there was this Loyalist who was held prisoner too? No, there was something going on. What... he didn't rightly know yet.  
  
When the boat hit shore, he slipped his mask on and left Samuel behind to do what he likes. The smell of rotten fish and bodies stung his nose keeping his head low, there were two Watch guards up on the bridge talking, throwing plague victims and no doubt less into the waters. _Despicable. This whole thing was-_  
  
"What the-" one of them muttered before being shoved over the bridge with a slit neck, the second Watch drew his pistol to shoot. A sword was shoved through his mouth then kicked over the edge too. Corvo quirked his brow, then softly snorted at the person standing up there bowing to him. Sullivan, of course.  
  
He made his way up the steps, noticing the Wall of Lights had been shut down, several of the Watch laying against walls knocked out. No, he looked closer at the small trails of dragged blood, they were dead right next to the whale oil.  
  
"Was that really necessary?"  
  
"What, you gonna ask 'em nicely to kindly look the other way? Pfffttt."  
  
He rankled a little bit, then puffed out a sigh, "No, but I don't require your help, Sullivan. I can do this by myself you know."  
  
She bowed again, "Beggin' your pardon then. Go right on ahead," she waved her hand to the now out Wall, "Age before- Eh, you know what I mean."  
  
"Just stay the shit out of my way," he didn't need this right now, he didn't need help from another self proclaimed vigilante, "Understand. I don't need your help."  
  
"Alrightly then. But," there was the smirk on her lips again, "can't guarantee I won't be around watching. Waiting. Seeing and hearing. I'll always be watching you," she backed away, "I wanna to see how this all plays out... Masked Death."  
  
His back went right on edge when she darted through a grate, right out the way of him chasing her. Sullivan Lynch was sounding far too much like The Outsider, maybe it was his imagination, maybe he's hearing what he wants to hear. Maybe he's just an idiot. That could be it.  
  
Corvo peaked around the now out Wall of Light, several Watch were both milling about and standing around doing nothing in the boulevard. He rolled his eyes backing away, always the same useless lumps of nothing doing nothing as usual. He made his way up the wall, making sure he didn't make a sound climbing up high above them all. His fingers twitched itching to reach for his pistol to take them all down. No, too loud. His crossbow though...  
  
His lips smirked and sneered the same time loading the thing, aiming right down the sights for their necks. His hands shook trying to focus, sweat beaded then started to roll down his brow the longer he stood there in the shadows. He's never taken this long to take someone down, why now? Corvo shook his head to clear it aiming again, then pulls the trigger. It hit home, the minor gurgling sound alerted no-one at all.  
  
Good. He aimed for the next one, then the next, taking them all down from his high position. Sweat ran into his mouth deciding he'll slice the necks of the last two, his tongue twinged running over his lips, tasting the bitter sweet taste. His eyes felt like the were dilating running over the rooftop pulling his sword free, his heart beat like a drum against his rib cage jumping from the edge on the unsuspecting Watch guard under him.  
  
The edge drove in deep through the back of the mans neck, blood splattered over his mask, his coat, everywhere pulling it free for the next one. The man was trying to reach an alarm, his hands shaking, the front of his pants deepening in colour. Urine, the stale smell of urine hit Corvo's nose chasing the man down, tackling him to the ground. He drew his sword over pale skin, letting the blood spill onto the ground like some sacrifice before he pushed away from the now dead man.  
  
 _'Huh,'_ he looks the spilt blood over as he stood, the shape forming to a very familiar pattern. Almost like a little fish bound in the Outsiders mark. Now that was new looking at the back of his own hand to the mark there, then back down at the ground. He just ground his teeth, smearing the blood away with his boot just so no-one anyone would look at it.   
  
He had work to do.

* * *

  
"Where ever I go," Corvo eyed the wanted poster, "Its always something."  
  
He eyed the one right next to it, no face plastered there unlike his. No, this one had the same damn mask Sullivan Lynch wears printed on it, mistaking the woman for a man. He is guilty- blah blah blah - 45000 coins reward.  
  
"Thats twenty thousand more then me! Could at least get her sex right," he huffed stepping away from them, then changed his mind ripping them both away from the wall. He screwed them up with the mind of burning both on the nearby cooking fire. Who ever that belonged to though, was long gone, either with the plague, became a Weeper, or just ran else where leaving burning food right on top.  
  
Rats run by his feet, he kicked a few out the way going back on his hunt for this _'Granny Rags'_ he got directed too. He's heard tall tales of the old hag, he heard them all the first time he stepped foot in Dunwall. That she was over two hundred years old, a witch, the same ole same ole rubbish stories told around fires, under bed covers, behind hands whispering.  
  
Corvo went to kick another rat out the way, when he noticed that one was pure white looking up at him, chittering. His foot hovered deciding whether to stand on it, or just kick it. He stepped around the rat, ignoring it completely going back in the shadows to this old hags home. He could hear several voices shouting in the distance, shouting for Granny Rags to come out, that they ain't gonna hurt her.  
  
He dipped his head down blinking up to the roof over looking the scene. Yup, several of the Bottle Street gang were pounding on her door, sending more cracks up the already broken wood. One had a lit bottle in his hands about to toss it against the door. Corvo drew his pistol, bending his elbow in-front resting it against the crook, then pulled the trigger.  
  
The one with the lit bottle dropped it on himself, his arms flailing both trying to put it out as the burning alcohol spread everywhere, and to stop himself colliding with his gang mates right there. It didn't work catching them all on fire. Corvo smirked watching the chaos he just created, the burning mass of bodies right outside the old hags door too. Ahh, well. He'll just step over them.  
  
His nose wrinkled at the pungent smell of burning flesh, alcohol, and shit hitting his senses making his way off the roof. He just kicked the burning pile of rubbish away from the old hags door, pushing it open like he lives there.  
  
"No, no, no, knives go on the left. THE LEFT... you never listen."  
  
 _Was someone else here?_  
  
"Garbage, garbage, garbage. All of it, garbage. No, no, that won't do at all."  
  
She was talking to herself. The old hag was muttering to herself in the kitchen. He knew she might be a little batty, but this... Void. Corvo cleared his throat in the doorway, announcing to her that someone was there. He hasn't lost all his manners, well, not all of them when she turned around and smiled at him. Ugh, she was everything an old hag looks like too, almost pure white hair falling out from the piled high bun. Her eyes almost the same colour. Clothes threadbare, that once looked like they were very fine cloth many moons ago.  
  
But yet, there was a tug from several places around him. He should of felt that coming in, but he didn't until she started to talk, calling him her husband. Corvo puckered his mouth at that, nodding his head not even listening to her, more interested in the feeling of the Void from somewhere, the tug of a charm too.  
  
"Little birdies, ohhh," she cooed clicking her fingers, "come to grandmother. Poor dears must be starving," she clucked her tongue shooing him, "Now do run along young man and get it for me."  
  
He blinked a few times, what did she want him to do? Shit, blood and feathers, he wasn't listening at all. His tongue ran over his lips stepping back from Granny Rags as she shuffled on by him out the kitchen. He'll figure it out later, sneaking to the back door. The tug, was right there. He peaked through the keyhole, thats why, an Outsider shrine was right outside her back door with a shiny rune sitting on-top, bathed in purple light.  
  
Corvo wanted that, he needed that rune just sitting there doing nothing. He HAD to have it closing the door behind him, he desired to have that in his hands. Saliva built up in his mouth inching his fingers to it, his heart quickened in its beat when he grabbed it. Oh, he didn't smile feeling himself getting tugged towards the Void.  
  
"Be careful Corvo. They call her Granny Rags, but you wouldn't recognise the woman nor who her family once was. Men begged to take her hand in marriage, then begged to take her to bed. So many fought over her, so many she weighed, measuring all their-"  
  
"Enough with the riddles. Is this why you bought me here, to riddle me bored? You think I give a damn about the old hag?" he leaned forward hissing through his teeth, "I don't."  
  
His imagination must of run wild again when he thought he saw a small smirk play on The Outsiders mouth. It ran wild when brows softened slightly, but the slight head cock was right there when he spoke again.  
  
"You remind me of a certain someone. Someone I haven't seen in sometime. Must be why I chose you _'Corvo'_."  
  
"Oh here we go again," he flung his hands up in the air stepping back a few paces, "Can't you even say something simple without it sounding like some stupid riddle?"  
  
The Outsider outright smirked wide this time, his folded arms went his sides stepping a little closer to him, "I am. Your just not listening. I'll say it again, you remind me of someone I haven't seen for sometime. But I have heard... rumours about them. Corvo," he stepped forward again almost in his face, "I know you've seen them, I know you've spoken to them. I ask this of you: Don't chase her away, let her help you."  
  
Anger, jealousy and Void knows what else flooded right on through him. Finger nails dug in hard against his palms shaking with it all, they dug in so deep he could feel welts of blood form right on under them.  
  
"Who is she, Outsider? Another you?"  
  
"Don't ruin her trust when she finds you again. I know you won't, but I'm warning you if you even consider it: I will have my debt paid in full."  
  
Jealousy and anger grew in size at this. It swelled to proportions beyond anything he's ever known.  
  
"Okay, I'm leaving," Corvo put both his hands up in mock defeat, "Keep your shit all I care. Can't even be bothered to speak any sense whatsoever."  
  
"As you wish. But one thing before you go. You face the High Overseer soon, the leader of the cult who loathes everything I am. What will you do when you find him, I wonder?"  
  
He was about to retort, but his force was pushed out away from the Void right in the back garden of Granny Rags again. He slammed both his fists on the now defunct shrine in rage, he wanted to know what was going on. Seems like he wasn't the only one when he pushed the whole thing over, seems The Outsider wanted to know what happened to Sullivan Lynch. Both, were as forthcoming as empty air.  
  
Damn him for being curious about them both. Damn him to the Void and back.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

**The (Dis)Honourable Defiance of Delinquency PT2**

The heart sat there staring at him. It sat there mocking him with everything he was. Hearing her voice come from it just made him hate everything even more. All he could hear was her mocking him everytime she spoke, everytime he touched it. Corvo pushed it away from himself onto the floor. He wanted nothing to do with it at all.  
  
His gaze traveled the bone charms he's collected so far, each one hummed under his touch, but no-where as good as the hum from the runes. He puffed his cheeks, then lets the breath out slowly thumbing the runes, thumbing over the Outsiders mark etched deep in whale bone. Voices filtered up from the pub to his open window, Martin was talking with the others about what happened the few days previous. About how Campbell was both branded then killed with the brand lodged in his head. But Corvo didn't care at all.  
  
Something was still bothering him about them all. He still didn't know what though. The Outsider never said anything, and he hasn't seen Sullivan again either when he chased her off. He knows full well now he made a mistake in that, when the black eyed one said not to chase her away.   
  
But why couldn't he search for her himself if he was the all seeing, all knowing God of the Void? Why couldn't he find-  
  
"Dark-eyed seafaring exile from waters not here. The dreamer was broken, drifting, then became-"  
  
"Shut. Up."  
  
Corvo kicked the heart well away from him. More riddles, more nonsense making no sense at all from everything around him. And the fact the bloody voice from the heart was the Empress-  
  
"He would be proud of you. Even as I suffered, he did not."  
  
Anger boiled through him again pushing away from his table. He stormed on over to the heart talking to him, his foot mere inches away from just stopping the voices from it for good. He didn't want to be reminded of all that, he didn't want to be reminded he failed all three of them. Corvo gently put his booted foot on the ground, the toes barely pressing on the heart making it beat rapidly, "I will, if you don't shut up."  
  
"Monster," it hissed at him, "Murdering monster eking out mere pittances in memories of him. He would still be proud, even if I was not."  
  
His foot kicked it away again right out the now opening door to his room. Corvo clenched both his fists and teeth while Piero blinked a few times at him, picking the heart up between his fingers gingerly.  
  
"Extraordinary. Would you mind if I study this? Perhaps I can-"  
  
"Do what you like with it, I want NOTHING to do with that babbling clockwork junk. What do you want?"  
  
Piero smiled pocketing the garish thing, "Well, besides making adjustments to your pistol, adding a special touch to your bolts. They want to speak to you about Weepers. Remember your hood."  
  
Fantastic, "Fine," he turned his back on the man to grab his coat, something glinted in the left pocket as he shrugged the thing on, "I guess I have to clean house as usual?" His fingers touched what was inside, not his mask, no, that was in his right pocket. Corvo slightly pulled the thing from within out. A small silver fish etched in blue was held in his hand, its scales shimmered like iridescence in the sun light. Blue green that changed to red.  
  
He's never seen anything like it, tucking it back in his pocket. He doesn't remember picking that up anywhere, he would of remembered something like that.  
  
"Sullivan," he muttered under his breath. She must of slipped it in there some how. Either that or him. No, The Outsider wasn't that close to him the last time they met, or was he? He puffed out his cheeks making his way into the main room of the Hound pulling his hood down, he just wanted to go get Emily, not play little boy do this, do that, and everything else.  
  
 _'Would he be proud of him?'_ he thinks to himself. He highly doubt he would approve of pretending to be someone he's not right now, even if they all believe it he was who was supposed to be. SHIT, that damn heart got to him. He should of burnt the thing when he had a chance. But still, he had his manners listening to them all, telling him to pacify the Weepers in the sewers, Piero asking him to at least keep them alive so he could study them too.  
  
Corvo made his way to the sewer entrance, slipping his mask on even though he really didn't need too. Its become a security for him to hide behind everything, pretend to be the one everyones thinks he is. A small lump formed in the back of his throat jumping down through the grate, wondering what they would do if they all found out. He shouldn't care, he shouldn't care at all, but it seems he does as he trudged in the shadows, keeping his footfalls light through the murky waters.  
  
His fingers skimmed over the small fish in his pocket again, for some strange reason, it calmed him as much as the runes do. Shuffling and the low moan of a Weeper shook him out of his musings, reaching for his pistol strapped on his chest. He then stopped in his tracks when the weeping woman just slumped over asleep. What the-  
  
"Shh, they can hear you coming a mile away."  
  
Corvo's instincts were to bring his fist back to the whisper behind him, to which it struck something cold to the touch before he blinked away. His heart hammered hard in his chest appearing at the opposite end. _'Jumpy, jumpy, far too jumpy.'_  
  
"Ow," the person rubbed their head, "Arse, that hurt."  
  
He hissed through his teeth pointing right at her, "YOU!"  
  
"Awwww, you gonna get all grumpy on me Masked Death? For shame," Sullivan slowly walked up to him, her hands now tucked behind her back smirking, "Well, I told you I'd be watching, waiting, seeing. I forgot to add following again, didn't I? Bugger it."  
  
Corvo's teeth hurt with how hard he was clenching them, his hands shook like mad by his sides in anger at this whole thing. "Back. Off," he ended growling out with his teeth and jaw still clenched, "I still don't know who you are, but-"  
  
"But what? Like my little gift, cute ain't it," she grinned as she stood on the opposite side of the sewers aqueduct, "Thought you might like a bit of homemade craft. Well, shit I stole then smelted to make that, but still. Homemade."  
  
"How'd you find me, Sullivan? How in the name of the Void did you know I was down here?"  
  
She shrugged, "Actually, I didn't. Was making my way though here, saw the Weepers, knocked 'em out, then find you trying to sneaky sneak. Need better boots to quieten it down. And your breathing heavy too, like you had a round or ten with a Tallboy."  
  
"So," he scoffed behind his mask, folding his arms over his chest glaring at her, "your not all seeing, knowing then. Just happened to stumble on my pathetic attempt to pacify this lot, which, by the way, you saved me the trouble of doing. Thanks for that. And I'm not breathing heavy."  
  
"Really? Could of fooled me. Still," Sullivan clucked her tongue leaning back on the wall behind her, "need to get better boots, learn to breathe as quiet as a rat," she actually pulled a white one out from inside her coat, smiling at it. "Like this one you nearly stood on. You know, this poor little bugger once belonged to the Lonely Rat Boy? Shit, I wish I knew 'bout him so he didn't get beaten and raped by choffers. Poor kids dead now. This little fella came and found me. I call him Tiller."  
  
Corvo's lips parted, he's heard tales about the little boy, how The Outsider marked him only to have the boy's own rat swarm kill him. Blood and fire, she held the very same rat the little boy once held dear!  
  
"I, I didn't know. He just chittered up at me, why I never did anything to him." His mouth felt dry as a summer heat wave going through him, Sullivan ran her fingers over the rats head, its whiskers twitched going back inside her coat, "He's been looking for you. He told me he can't see nor feel where you are. How? The Outsider knows everything."  
  
She turned her head away from him, looking down the sewers, "Because, I'm an outsider myself. Not like him, mind. No, nothing like that, but still," she shrugged, "an outsider of different sorts."  
  
"Wonderful, more riddles. I'm sick and tired of riddling hearts, riddling Outsiders, and now, I'm sick of riddles from you," he spat.  
  
"Riddles? Its the bloody fucking truth. One I ain't even willing to part with yet," she spat back at him, "I'd like to at least keep one fucking thing for a while longer, even if everything else of me is gone. And no, thats not a fucking riddle either, Masked Death."  
  
That very same swell of anger and jealousy went through him again jumping down to the murky water below, his feet stomped through the waters as much as hers did so they were almost face to face. Corvo only just noticed he had several inches of height over her, like he noticed he was a little taller then the Outsider as well. But still, he almost dwarfed the woman sneering her lip up at him.  
  
"Why do you wear a mask, Sullivan?"  
  
"Why'd you wear one?"  
  
"I. Asked. First," he dipped his head down, "Why do you hide your face?"  
  
"I'm not hiding it, I'm proving a fucking point! Don't judge this book by its cover," she snarked.  
  
Corvo smirked at that, dipping down even more, "Couldn't agree more. I wear this so I can hide, Sullivan. So no-one can see my face when I kill them, so no-one knows the truth."  
  
"And what truths that? Your a disfigured hagfish? Oh, I know," her tongue touched the piercing in the corner of her mouth, "Your hiding the truth your not who you say you are. Me too," she mock whispers.  
  
He reeled back at that almost falling onto his backside when it hit the aqueduct's walkway. His palms were sweaty, his mouth was bone dry trying to say something. Everything fled away from him, words wouldn't form, nails dug in deep against his palm. Anger, rage, remorse and failure went right on through him as he shook hard. Sullivan just stepped away several paces from him.  
  
"Sorry. Didn't mean to hit a nerve 'bout being a hagfish. You need to get back before they think you turned Weeper. I guess they sent you down here to deal with 'em."  
  
He nodded his head mutely slowly side stepping away, keeping his front facing her before he ran through the sewers. His bottom lip quivered climbing back up the ladder for fresh air. But he didn't cry, no, he didn't. He didn't cry then, and like the Void will he cry now.

* * *

  
He couldn't believe he was standing in the same damn offices he stood in two weeks previous for the old hag. Slackjaw still didn't know he poisoned the elixir, he doubt he ever would know. But still, he stood there like a fool looking about himself. He was so sick and tired of being given the run about, he's sick and tired of being some damn errand boy for everyone else. He needed to do this though, just so he could get Emily.  
  
Corvo's shoulders slump a little, how was he going to tell her. How? _No, don't start you need to find this Crowley, needed to find him, get him out and back to Slackjaw._ But he still stood in the middle of the room unmoving. Wet ran down his cheeks, soaking into the cloth behind his mask. He knew he'd eventually break, but he didn't think he'd do it in the middle of the Doctors office.  
  
"Hey," he startled at the quiet voice behind him, "stay right where you are."  
  
Sullivan crept up beside him keeping low. He wanted to wipe the tears that rolled down his face, but ended up sniffing, nodding instead.  
  
"Good. Theres a few guards right out there," she pointed, then put a finger to her mouth crawling away. The white rat trounced after her, looking about as much as she was around the door. She looked over her shoulder at him, then mouthed 'Four.'  
  
The rat climbed up her back to her shoulder with himself keeping to the shadows to the closed portion of the double doors. Four. He can deal with four on his own. Corvo put his hand out, waving it at her to back off. She complied scooting away.  
  
His fingers itched for the pistol again, he went for the sword slipping out the door. One of the guards spotted him shouting for the others upholstering his pistol. Corvo rolled his eyes as usual blinking to be right behind him, then drove the sword in deep through the back of his chest, hearing the crack of several ribs when he twisted it back out. A shot went off right near his head, which just earned them all a very deep low growl charging off at the men firing at him.  
  
His blade sliced the head away from shoulders in once swift move against one the guards, leaving just two. One looked up though, then froze dropping to his knees as prayers slipped from his dribbling lips. Even Corvo stepped back as Sullivan pounced down on the one praying, duel daggers sunk in deep in his shoulders. She sneered in his face, "Pay back," while the man screamed when the daggers went into his eyes.  
  
"Shit," he muttered withdrawing his pistol shooting the last man right between his eyes before he fled.  
  
"Yeah well, he fucking deserved it," Sullivan wiped the blooded blades on the dead mans coat, "He saw what was happening, but he never stepped in to help his little brother at all. Usual fucking guard stuff; look the other way an ignore shit. I helped him instead."  
  
Corvo strode up to her, he wanted to turn her around to ask what it was about, but didn't lowering both his hands away. He opted for something else instead, "Have to find Crowley. Do you know where he is?"  
  
"No I don't. Sorry, was kinda trailing after you, but got distracted on the way here," and there was the smirk on her lips, which just made him swallow at the little drops of blood on them, which she just licked away, "A nice herd of plagued rats were busy chomping on someone I realllly needed to talk with. Kinda fuzzed up my plans, oh well."  
  
"Fuzzed up? I won't ask," looking about, then to a set of stairs leading up, "I bet he's up there. Void, he'd better be alive or Slackjaw won't help me."  
  
Her head cocked with her foot lifted above the step, "Help with what?"  
  
"You can't tell anyone," he hissed brushing past her, "They think she's someone else to me. They think I'm older then what I am too. They think I'm-"  
  
He heard her slip down the steps, heard her gasp out grabbing the back of his coat, "The fuck you on 'bout? Who the fuck are you if-"  
  
"Falco, I'm Falco Attano. Corvo was my father, Emily's my little sister. I have to get her back," failure swelled inside him again pulling free continuing his climb, "I took his name so no-one would know, Sullivan."  
  
"Holy flying hagfish shit! No wonder you keep your face tucked up behind that then. I saw a new poster with that plastered on it for killing Campbell by the way. Thirty thousand, their asking for the masked felon."  
  
His shoulders stiffened, then slumped facing her, "Still fifteen thousand less then you. Thats all I need, more trouble. More people to put down like dogs."  
  
"Are we competing for fucking points here or something? Fucks sake, we'll get her back, Falco. Where is she?" Sullivan put the white rat back inside her coat, "Why the fuck do you need some Crowley?"  
  
He never said a word striding his long legs up the remaining steps. He needed this man alive, he needed, needed- Falco fisted his hands by his side, fighting against the tears that wanted to fall again, fighting against the rage that built up in him once more. He just ducked his head down pushing every door open he could find. The sword he didn't know he unsheathed, shook in his hand.   
  
Voices muttered from the door right at the end of a hallway. Always the last one, always.  
  
Sullivan tapped his arm, pointing up. His eyes followed to where she was pointing, an open window over the top of the door. Perfect. He dipped his head to her putting his hand out, then vanished to the other side.  
  
Two guards were over the body of a dead man strapped to a chair. He knew, he damn well knew sneering his lip up, that was Crowley strapped right there, dead. He threw his sword in anger from his perch right in the back of one of the guards heads. His pistol just blew the face off the other one, smearing the ground with it. Sullivan pushed the door open as he jumped down, he's just lost his chance in saving Emily, he's just lost everything even more now.  
  
"Huh, audiograph," the woman picked up the very blood soaked recording up between her fingers, "Guess thats your man Crowley too. You know," she handed it to him, "that maybe better then hauling his body back to Slackjaw. OH!" she pulled out a bone charm from her pocket, "Take that as well. I got no need for it. Might be useful to you though."  
  
Falco frowned looking the charm over, a hum went through him that was more pleasing then the others he has, "Where did you get this? Whats it for?"  
  
"The one I went to have a realllly good talk to, had that on him. Not what I wanted," she grinned, "I think that kinda helps when you jump on people or some shit? As I said, might be useful to you better then me."  
  
"So, the person you went to speak too happened to have this on him? Perhaps he fell to his death and the rats thought he looked good sitting there."  
  
Sullivan snorted, then doubled over as she laughed hard, "Probably! Oh fuck, ow, ow, ow stitches."  
  
The grin that went over his face, pushed his sorrow to one side watching her roll about the floor as she laughed. Felt like his face hurt doing so, but it felt worth every moment of it though. Felt like that same feeling when he laughed about playing with himself. Perhaps The Outsider were right in telling him not to push her away. And he was never one to break someones trust, even if he was a failure for what happened.  
  
"I," he cleared his throat to start again, "I have to get back to Slackjaw. Do you know the way to the Golden Cat?"  
  
Sullivan stopped her laughter suddenly, her hands went into fists behind her gloves, "Know all 'bout that place. A whorehouse, a fucking whorehouse I know too well."  
  
"Thats where Emily is," Falco frowned when she flinched, her whole body just flinched then tightened, "I thought it was a gentleman's club, a smoking house. Not a-"  
  
"They like little boys and girl in there," she spat standing, "The like little boys and girls who whore themselves like rubbish. More if their under sixteen, more then the fucking old bitches they have strutting 'round. I'll see you there, armed to the chuffin' teeth."  
  
His mouth went instantly dry when she ran out the room. No, no that can't be right. It can't be.

* * *

  
He was wrong staring at the sign, at the courtesans and whores through the window. At the high class drinking brandy, smoking cigars, free hands on men and womens backsides. Falco harshly swallowed at the ones who looked so young, highly made up walking among them all. His whole body stiffened thinking he saw Emily among them, but it wasn't. Void take it all, he needed to do something here. But what? He'd only end up killing again.  
  
Dread filled him half blinking and climbing up the side of the building for the roof. If anyones touched Emily in that way, if she's been hurt, he will kill everyone in there regardless.  
  
Sullivan poked her head around a skylight, then pointed down. Falco kept his jaw clenched just so he didn't say anything when he ran over to her. He looked down hoping and praying he didn't see anything he didn't want to right now. He heaved out a quiet sigh of relief to the empty room below.  
  
"Me and Tiller will go hunting. Gonna get some of the little ones out from under their fucking noses who need it. You go do what you need to do while I do that, and," she smirked slipping through the open skylight to the door, "stay safe huh."  
  
"Wait-" he jumped down after her, "Sullivan, if, if I don't find Emily, she has black hair and brown eyes. She's ten years old, wearing-"  
  
She stopped him putting a finger over the mouth piece of his mask, "If I find her, I'll keep an eye on her, alright. Go do your thing, while I go do mine."  
  
Sullivan ran around to the left of the open door, but he stood there putting his shaking hand up to where she had her finger. He knows he was curious of Sullivan and The Outsider, but he didn't quiet know what to make of that, shaking his head to get himself into gear. First he had to find the Pendletons for Slackjaw to deal with, then bloody Bunting for the safe combination.   
  
Then, he can try and find Emily among these- these whores!  
  
He hopes Sullivan finds her first before he changes his mind on everything. Which he no doubt will do when he spots one of the Pendletons with a young woman giving him a hand job through an open door. Falco sneered his lip up in disgust taking his crossbow out for all this. He's seen enough already pinning Morgans head to the bed-board. The young woman tries to scream when blood hits her face and chest, her hand still on Morgans cock shaking like a leaf.  
  
"Get out of here," he growls, "Find better work."  
  
She nods still in shock, then runs out the room covered in the bed sheet splattered in blood.  
  
By the time he got to Custis, he left a trail of bodies behind him in anger. His coat bathed in gore, his mask dripping as he heaved at the man on his knees with a pony tail stuck up his backside, a horses bit in his mouth. Falco just shakes his head when the man tried to flee, he pinned him to the door like a puppet, telling the young man to get out too. He has still yet to find Bunting leaving Custis behind.  
  
He has yet to find Emily or Sullivan either. But he did find her pet rat Tiller chittering up at him just outside the door. He followed the white rat when it ran off to the first floor, he followed it through the mass of dead around him. He followed Tiller even further, down into some basement where Emily was standing with Sullivan and, of all people, Granny Rags.  
  
"CORVO!" Emily flew into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck, "She saved me. You should of seen it," she smiled pulling back from him, "She kicked the door down, her little friend came running into gnaw away my binds. It was amazing!"  
  
"Sweet dear. You had better say hello to him. I know he's waiting for you."  
  
Sullivan nodded her head when he looked up, "I can try, Vera. A bit hard with, well, you know. And, thanks for the help too."  
  
The old woman just smiled walking away, muttering to herself. Falco picked his little sister up, he'd tell her when they get clear of here, then cursed he never found Bunting. Sullivan cocked her head at him, waving a piece of paper in her hand with a three numbers written on it.  
  
"I found some old geezer getting his jollies on electricity. He gave me a safe code in return for his, ugh, kicks. Bleh, can we get the chuff outta here now?"  
  
"Take Emily to the boat," he took the paper sighing internally, "I will meet you there in half hour. If not, come find me at Slackjaw's. Those rats may of taken a liken to me instead."

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

**The (Dis)Honourable Defiance of Delinquency. PT3**

Treavor spat fire at him for killing his brothers, calling him every name under the sun in-front of Emily. She kicked him in the shins then told him to be quiet. He never spat fire after that, slinking back into the pub to drink himself under the table. Farley was also disgusted by his actions in the Golden Cat, but he kept his mouth shut following Treavor to drink.  
  
He honestly couldn't care less what any of them thought of him any longer, he did what he needed to do to get Emily. And he would do it all over again. And again. And again. But she was safe now with Callista in her little tower. Falco kept his face hidden behind his hood watching her from the rooftop. He hasn't told her yet, he didn't know how to tell her he failed her, failed the Empress, failed father too.  
  
He screwed his eyes shut rising from his position to sit else where. She was fine, safe and sound. Where as he was slowly falling apart, piece by small piece running over rooftops away from the Hound. He, for the first time since this all happened, even with the Void burnt into his flesh, even though it was right there.  
  
He felt alone in everything. He felt like the only person still there in the known world, on his own standing on sheets of ice as they drifted away.  
  
The very same small lump formed in his throat almost tripping on his feet. It formed and swelled right there, making it hard for him to breathe properly when he slumped down on the edge of some roof.  
  
Falco felt there were times he was disconnected from everything around him, even though he knew he wasn't. Still didn't stop him from crying sitting on the edge there, still didn't stop him from feeling like a failure all over again. Still didn't stop him from thinking father would of hated what he became. But that was his choice and no-one else's to make.  
  
A little white blur raced up his leg, then sat on his knee twitching his whiskers happily. He gingerly put his hand out to Tiller chittering at him, the rat dipped his head allowing Falco to run his fingers over the rats ears to his back.  
  
"Sneaky, bloody- Come ba- Oh-"  
  
Sullivan popped her head over the edge of the roof, looking between the pair of them, then huffed a laugh climbing over the ledge, "He was giving me the run round. Wondered what the fuck for," she sat next to him smirking, "Now I know. Bit out the way to watch your little sister, ain't it?"  
  
"I, just wanted to sometime by myself. Whether to think, or whether to- to-" he looked away from them both, "Am I a monster?"  
  
"What?"  
  
Falco chewed on his bottom lip, then heaved out a loud sigh slowly looking back, "Am I a monster? A murderer? A fiend?"  
  
"Er, no. Ask that 'bout anyone around Dunwall. Bet you almost all of 'em are just that. No, you ain't," Sullivan drew her knees up, resting her chin against them, "I've done my fair share of killing, Falco. Fair share of robbing too. No, monsters are those who think they can take what little you have left, they rape, they beat and they lie and cheat. THEIR the monsters, not me or you."  
  
Tiller jumped from his knee over to her, climbing up to her shoulder scratching against her mask. Falco scooted a little closer to her so their legs almost touched, "That damn heart called me a monster. I should never of let it get to me. I don't know if father would be proud of me, but we, me and him, are the same. We both kill to protect."  
  
"All anyone can ask for really. I learned all that the hard fucking way, trust me. Tiller, fuck sake," Sullivan picked the rat up, shaking her head, "I'm not taking it off right now. But anyway, sometimes I think you need to loose almost everything to trawl yourself from the depths to get stronger. Never knew what he meant at the time, I did afterwards though. So, I took matters into my own fucking hands. Now I'm a wanted criminal. How nice."  
  
"Perhaps. But I would do everything the same, I wouldn't change anything. Though, maybe finding Corvo sooner may or may not of made things any better," he shrugged, then dug his hand into his coat pocket pulling out the silver fish, "He would of liked something like this, you know. I think he would of liked you too. I, well, I was sent here to Dunwall when my mother died. He never knew I existed for a little over nine years, until I showed up on his doorstep. She told me to find him so I wouldn't have to live on the streets," he bit his lip remembering.  
  
Sullivan just huffed on her knees, "Yeah well, least you had that. Kinda had two people who found me and took me in. Their both dead now. I learned all I could from 'em and the streets, then I learned to hate 'em both in the end. So, Corvo never knew 'bout you? How'd that go with the Empress and Emily when they found out 'bout you?"  
  
"Jessamine was pregnant with Emily when I just showed up. I knew from the look on his face and hers, that they were together in some way. I was no blind naive child. She never accepted me from that moment because I wasn't hers, but Corvo did. He taught me everything I knew. Everything. Emily, when she was born, meant everything to me. I swore to protect her as much as he did."  
  
"See," she knocked his arm, "Not a monster. You have a heart, you have a soul, you ain't no monster if you still feel."  
  
Falco chuckled at that. She wasn't wrong, he did feel even if he tried to keep everything under wraps all the time. A small smile worked its way over his face, putting the silver fish on her knee when Sullivan lifted her head, "You didn't need to give that to me. I require nothing."  
  
"Nah ah, I gave that to you because it's kinda special. Listen, I don't trust anyone any more, the ones I do trust, well: Ones batty as a hagfish, but means well. The others stuck in the Void, I haven't been able to go back cos of my dreams. The other, well, two really. She's cute as a button, fierce as a wolfhound too. Sos her big brother. Don't think theres many out there who'd go that far just to do what you've done. And you too Tiller, you daft chuffin' rat."  
  
Heat went over his hidden face when she handed the trinket back to him. It raced over his cheeks and down his neck to what she said. A different lump formed in the back of his throat this time, thumbing the silver fish again, then swallowed to make it go away before he spoke.  
  
"Tha-thank you," his voice almost wavered swallowing again, "I, actually don't know what else to say other then that."  
  
"You just did. So, tell me 'bout this heart. Whats it do?"

* * *

  
Piero kept his back against the wall, trying to back away from Sullivan in the middle of his work shop. He just up and ran to hide behind Falco instead, looking around his back to the woman admiring the machinery.  
  
"What- what is he doing here? Why is the infamous Sullivan Lynch right in my work space? No, no, don't touch," he extracted himself with both his hands held out, while Sullivan ran her fingers over something Falco has no idea what.  
  
"Sorry, never seen shit like this before. Eh, so, wheres this heart thingy?"  
  
Piero nearly collapsed on the floor, but held himself up on his workbench, "Why would you want to see that? I, I tried to study it, but it wouldn't do anything for me. Just beat a few times then stopped like it was extinguished and spent."  
  
"Why you so jumpy?" Sullivan fisted her hands on her hips, "Not gonna bite you know. Not today, anyways."  
  
"Your a frightful terrifying, more so then him," the man thumbed right at Falco closing the doors, "Theres so many stories I've heard about you, seems they were wrong in assuming your a man. But still," Piero nodded his head climbing his stairs, "I have wondered why you have an unusual symbol emblazoned on your mask."  
  
"Its, complicated. Lets just say: Its to do with something I've seen. People who try and keep order out of chaos. Or is that chaos out of order? Eh," she shrugged pulling her gloves free, laying them out on the workbench, "its as complicated as me. Trust me on that."  
  
Falco kept the snort hidden under his hood, contemplating whether to pull it back or not. She's not seen his face and he's yet to see hers. He kept it over his head as Piero came down holding the heart in his out stretched hands.  
  
"As you can see, its doing nothing right now. Every attempt-" he squeaked when Sullivan just grabbed it. His eyes go huge when the heart started to thump in her hand while she turned it over, beating rapidly then slowly again settling into a steady rhythm.  
  
No voices yet which was nice. He didn't want to have to hear her mocking him as usua-  
  
"He tried to help, but he couldn't see where you were. He didn't know. He's sorry."  
  
Sullivan just dropped the heart on the floor backing away from it, "Er... how 'bout you don't say that again. Thanks."  
  
"You are a blind spot on his vision, dark-eye. Your dreams keep you away from the place that feels of home. Pick me up so I can speak quietly to you."  
  
Falco's lips parted, swells of jealousy crept up like a bad friend through him again. Rage, jealousy, anger, swept through him when Sullivan tentatively picked up the babbling heart again. And on-top of all that, tears pricked his eyes that she was listening to what that bitch was telling her. Was she going to tell her everything, was she going to whisper secrets to the thing he hates more then anything?  
  
Piero tapped his arm, motioning with his head to them some space as quiet words were passed between the two. His heart hammered in his chest stepping back, his hands shook turning his back.  
  
A soft splat went against the wall, Sullivan swearing loudly pushing past them for the outside. She looked over her shoulder, pointing back into the work shop with her lip sneered, "That things a bitch. YEAH, YOU HEARD ME," she shouted, "YOUR A FUCKING BITCH!"  
  
"What did she say?"  
  
She spat on the ground in disgust, Piero just ran into the Hound away from them both, "Oh not much," Sullivan snarked, "Other then she hates your guts for ruining everything between her and him. That Emily will never be anything to you with how you carry on- Where the fuck did you get that from? Throw it back, like, right now!"  
  
"The Outsider gifted it too me. To, help me," he spat on the ground as much as she did, "He, he molded it- He made it especially for me. Makes me wonder if it was meant for Corvo instead of me. I want nothing to do with it, I guess you don't either after that."  
  
"Like buggery do I! Its like a worm trying to get in your ear, then pulls everything right on out when you tug on it. Ugh, creepy, creepy, creepy. Seriously, throw it back. Wait-" Sullivan sauntered up to him, her arms spread on out on either side of her, "He gave it to you, means, you can give it back. Means-" a small smile went over her lips which just made that jealous feeling rise, "you can help me get there too. Yeah, yeah, how'd you do that. I just, well, its- I need to go back. I have to see him even if its for the last fucking time."  
  
Falco licked his lips, licking away the tang of blood on them from where he bit down. He nodded his head walking a few steps to her, "Through whale bone runes on Outsider shrines. But, he, he can come and go as he pleases being a God. Sullivan, whats going on? Neither of you are forthcoming in anything, and well, it's annoying me to no end about it all."  
  
"Sorry. I did say its complicated, and different, and everything else. Alright," she nodded to stepping closer, "You wanna know, I want him to know at the same time too. Yeah, yeah, I think its time after eight years."  
  
Eight years? He didn't know whether he felt anger go through him this time when she walked away, or curiosity. And dreams? A blind spot on his vision? He wanted answers, and he hoped on everything they weren't more riddles.

* * *

  
He just couldn't sleep at all, laying flat on his back looking up at the wooden roof. His eyes no longer felt heavy, his body just twitched urging him to get up and do something else. Falco flung the covers away from his bare chest, banging both his feet down when he swung them out, then sat there tugging on his hair in frustration. Everything was just so quiet around him, the moon still hung up, darkness was still over Dunwall.  
  
His body should be tired, he's been needing a proper sleep since starting all this. And the moment he finds Emily, the moment there a small breather, his body decides right now it doesn't need any rest whatsoever. Shit take it, he'll walk so he tires himself out. Maybe take a stroll on the rooftops. His legs didn't move when he tried it. Falco just tugged on his hair again even more frustrated. It got into his eyes when he lets it go, forcing his body to move from his seated position.  
  
It listened. His legs then walked right on over to his writing table, to his journal that needs to be written in. Typical.  
  
So, he roughly pulled the chair out, sat down heavily on it then started to write everything down in code. Just so no-one else knew what his thoughts were. Besides the joy of shedding the blood of others, the love of his little sister, what he's been doing these past few days. There was nothing else to write. Never really has been. Well, there was the section at the back he only writes in occasionally, which just had a few extra pages added to it.  
  
Those, were the slight fantasies he's been having about the two of them. Those, hidden secret moment's he won't admit he even feels, even though they were right there as plain as you like. As if he would actually act on any of them. As if he actually knew what he wanted in any of that. As if he never slipped his hand down his sleeping pants over it all.  
  
Falco's eyes grew heavier writing everything down, what happened to Samuel when he found some broken audiograph to make his first recording. The old man spat curses on the high seas when Falco heard it.  
  
He blinked away the sleepy feeling washing over him finally, needing to put this last part down, then froze as a pair of very cold hands skimmed over his shoulders. His instinct was to lash out at it, but the feeling was as familiar as the mark on his hand. His skin goosefleshed at the breath by his ear, those hands going over his broad shoulders down his arms, to his elbows.  
  
Someone leaned over him slightly, the tang of the sea made its way in through his nose and mouth when he sucked in a shuddering breath.  
  
"I know everything you know, remember," his eyes widen at the voice in his ear, "I see what you see. I would say I'm disappointed but I'm not."  
  
Falco swallowed sharply as fingers gently go back up his arms, "So now you show yourself. Sullivan-"  
  
"Thats not her name," The Outsider murmured in his ear, he swore something cold and wet touched it briefly, must of been his imagination, "Like you taking his name that isn't yours."  
  
"And yet you gave me that damn heart," he spat shrugging him off his shoulders, "Why? Why would you even give that to me knowing full well-"  
  
The Outsider cut him off, "Because you were right. It was meant for Corvo, you were meant to die but you survived the attack. The mark was meant for him too, everything was. But you took his place knowing everything would eventually crash down around you. But the outcome, surprised even me that day."  
  
That did it when the table was flipped over in anger, the chair crashing on the ground when he rounded on the God, "Stop. Lying. I'm sick of lies, of riddles, of not knowing ANYTHING!" He blinked a few times when the God rounded on him instead, he swore he was taller then him now.

How was that possible?  
  
"I'm not lying to you, your just not listening. You only hear what you want to hear then brush the rest away," The Outsider spat back at him, "You think you know, but yet," the Void God barked a laugh, "you don't even know what you want. You think you failed, you think he wouldn't approve. He would Falco. He would approve of everything your doing. Perhaps it was a mistake to give the heart to you, perhaps this all seeing all knowing God doesn't know everything. Like her, for instance."  
  
And there goes his anger and rage boiling to the tipping point, pushing his face into the other ones. A low growl left his throat, "Stop playing games with me. Speak plainly or get out of my sight."  
  
"Not listening again, Falco. And I have no intention on leaving just yet, when this is getting good."  
  
There was a smirk playing on the Gods lips pushing his own face into his. His skin goosefleshed again when cold fingers skimmed his shoulders, going to the back of his hair, "You know exactly what you want, you know exactly what you want to do. But you won't act upon it incase its rejected. I've seen how you fantasise about all this," lips ghosted over his own just made his heart want to jump right on out of his chest over it, "How desperately you need it. Crave it. To know theres someone out there just for you and no-one else."  
  
All he needed to do, was to lean forward a fraction to kiss the God right there. All he needed to do, was reach around to bring him in close. But, "Stop," it didn't feel right, none of it did with his arms hanging limply by his sides, "Not like this."  
  
"Are you sure," the tang of the sea ghosted his lips again, a coldness seeped deep in through him as fingers tightened through his hair, "I have heard its remarkable when you do-"  
  
Falco just pushed The Outsider well away from him, the God landed on the floor staring up at him in shock, "I said not like this. Just, just go. Go see Sullivan Lynch somehow," he screwed his eyes up turning his back on the man on the floor, "Just, take that damn heart back with you too."  
  
"I, I can't, I don't know where she is," he sounded younger, hurt and small, but Falco never turned back around, "Even with the rat, I don't know."  
  
"Would you of done this with him?" He needed to know.  
  
The Outsider was quiet behind him, there was a slight shuffle then a sigh, "I-"  
  
"WOULD YOU OF TRIED TO WOO HIM!"  
  
"NO! Corvo would of been a pawn! But you, you-" there was another shuffle further away now, "No, I wouldn't of done. I have never done it before either. I doubt I ever will again. Bring the heart to one of my shrines, you will never have to see it again. Nor me, if thats your wish. She can try through a shrine to me."  
  
With that, the feeling of the Void slipped away from Falco, still sitting at the table with his pen in hand. As though nothing happened, as though he were daydreaming. He ignored the tears pricking his eyes looking at the hidden section in his journal. He ripped them all out, screwing each page up, then threw them into the small fire in his room. Never again.  
  
Never will he write any of that down again.


	9. From these emerald waters doth life begin anew. (Part three)

**The (Dis)Honourable Defiance of Delinquency. PT5**

Anton Sokolov clutched the bottle tight in his hands, then everything spilled from his lips about the Boyle's, about Burrow's. The man may of done disgusting things, but it wasn't just to get at The Outsider, he was trying to find a cure for the plague. And his paintings were astounding! Falco wished he listened to Corvo about the man, instead of not listening as usual.  
  
He slowly made his way out to the courtyard, Pendleton was busy shooting as usual. They ignored each other as usual too. Everything, was as usual as it could ever be, except for one person who's been keeping herself hidden among them all. None of the Loyalists knew Sullivan were right there with them at all, keeping to the roofs and back-doors. Emily and Callista both liked Sullivan a great deal, his little sister more so.  
  
But yet, Emily screamed at him when he finally told her what happened, showing his face to her. She screamed and shouted, hitting his chest in anger that they were both gone. Then she cried in his arms that at least he was alive. He cried properly too over it. Falco told her he felt like he failed them all, Emily telling him she didn't, that she was still alive to be come Empress. That she would be like Sullivan in helping those who need it, and not ignore them like everyone else has ever done.  
  
His little sister, was as strong and fearless as he was. Fierce as a wolfhound Sullivan had said about them both. He thinks she's right on that account.  
  
Falco cocked his head at the younger woman standing in the work shops door way, shuffling on her feet, unsure. He leaned on the fence to watch what was going to happen when she went in finally, and listened.  
  
"Piero, I know your kinda shit scared of me. But, can I ask something?"  
  
The man slowed his breathing down, then smiled waving for her to sit at his table, "Tea?"  
  
"Sure," Sullivan snorted joining him, "Er, milk no sugar, thanks."  
  
"How can I help you? I highly doubt someone like me can do anything for you. I mean- No, thats not what I mean at all."  
  
She just sighed out slowly, "Its alright. I know what you mean," she reached up to the mask, unclasping it from her hood, "Can you do something with this? Or is it, I dunno, too Abbey like? I kinda want something else not like this. No stupid eye on it either."  
  
His eyes tried to look over her face, then to the mask when she handed it to him. Piero hummed looking it over, running his fingers over the etching she did, the padding on the inside, everything. He hummed again with his eyes closed, almost like he was tracing something with his fingers, nodding doing it. Sullivan raised her eyebrow at the smile on his face, grabbing a drawing pen, he then set to work on a napkin sketching something out.  
  
"I can create something more applicable then this, yes. Something better suited for who you are, what you do. Perhaps something similar to Fal- Corvo's," he stuttered slightly, which she found really funny when she giggled at him.  
  
"I already know," leaning forward to whisper over her tea, "So its okay. A deaths head huh? Two Masked Deaths running around saving the day? Oooohhh," she smirked when the man nodded, "I get it. In two different places at once if we wear the same shit. Nice, nice, and sneaky too. I likey!"  
  
The man smiled again then lifted his eyes to his door to where Falco now stood hearing enough, "We're having tea. And talking about masks. She requires a new one rather then the Abbey's garish thing. How do they even wear these? How do you even wear this heavy weight, Sullivan?"  
  
Falco joined them with his own hood pulled down over his face, pouring his own tea out she noted. _Two sugars, one, two, three tips of milk, stirred four time, then left to brew more with tea still steeping in it. Interesting. Piero was simple, no sugar, one dash of milk, no more brewed then weak._ She also noted Falco was fidgeting in his seat.  
  
"I just do, why I wear a hood. I took a lot of junk outta it when I, well, _'Found'_ it just laying around on a dead mans corpse. And no, I didn't do it. I clasp it, see," she pointed to them on the mask, then tugged on the thick black cloth attached to her undercoat, "They wear something like that too. I just stole the idea!"  
  
"So you observe, then recreate in your own fashion? Fascinating. May I update your pistol and sword, Sullivan? Yours too, Falco. I came up with a new idea for both of them."  
  
Falco slammed both things on the table making them both jump, Sullivan put hers down more gently then she normally does. She wondered what was up Falco's backside when he fidgeted again in his seat. Piero was oblivious when he wandered away to his workbench, leaving the two of them to sit there in quiet. She sucked in her cheeks, puckering her lips up like a fish does, then gives in drinking her tea down in one gulp.  
  
He still sat there now thumbing the edge of the tea cup, trying to get the right words out without sounding angry. Then just "Can we speak?"  
  
"I dunno, can we?"  
  
"Sullivan, can we speak frankly," he huffed almost annoyed, running his fingers over the cups handle, "I need to know something. No, more then need, I have to know."  
  
She started to feel a little uneasy right now sitting there. She didn't know what was coming next, she didn't know if something shitty was about to happen as normal. Though, shit like that-  
  
"What- what you wanna know?"  
  
He faced her behind his hood, "The woman in the vision, do you know who she was? The man as well? Who are these Seekers? Sullivan, I just need-"  
  
"You think I fucking know! She kinda looked like granma, well the picture I remember of granma. Dunno who the man was though. Seekers," she just sighed pushing her tea cup away, "I know the name from my dreams. The Seekers of Truth, part of some religious thing. Help fight against bad shit, help people, but loose their way a lot. They helped some giant grey skinned man called Adaar build some fighting force thing. Inqui- Inquisition I think? Thats all I know. Didn't think they'd hurt someone."  
  
"You weren't lying then about your dreams. How often does it happen? Sorry," Falco pushing his own cup away sighing through his nose at how strange this all was, "If The Outsider was as perplexed as you were, as me too, perhaps theres something else going on with you."  
  
The dark mirthless chuckle that came from her startled him a fraction, "Your telling me. Like this," she pulled her glove away from her undercoat, then pushed the sleeve up her arm, "Not your run of the mill mark, is it. Not like yours, not like Da- another man I met years ago. Kinda looks like something I seen in dreams."  
  
Sullivan put her marked arm up in mid-air, palm out with her fingers splayed, then snapped it back fisting her hand, "Pattern looks kinda the same. I dunno what those fucking dreams and shit is. Old memories, ones that ain't happened yet? Or are they right now? I dunno what the rest of the pattern is though, kinda weird squiggles in it."  
  
"Can you show me? Or, is it further then your arm," he most certainly did not have heat race over his cheeks again, "If thats not too bold of a thing to ask."  
  
"Nooo, say it ain't so. Masked Death has manners? HAH! No, just on my left arm an shoulder," she was about to remove her undercoat when someone called for Corvo, "Fuck, better go hide. Later, right?"  
  
He never got to say anything when she just ran up Piero's stairs to the outside. Spit, shit, blood and fire, he almost got to see her face if Farley hadn't of interrupted them both. Damn it to the Void and back, he almost got to see.

* * *

  
Teeth ground against teeth in frustration, looking at each picture she tried to draw. The same thing over and over and over again on each piece of fucking paper spread out on the floor. Why was it the same fucking strange shape? Why was it the same shaped sword shoved right through shit too? Bad enough years ago she had something similar go through her, trying to get it all out on walls with charcoal and mud.

Same thing over and over again of some strange patterned circle, then there was the time with the strange bird with feet like a cats.  
  
Sullivan gave up, messing the papers up on the floor like a child she was that pissed off. She wanted to write it down, everything, but it looked like scribbles every time she tried.  
  
All these years she thought she was loosing her mind, turns out she was well wrong in that. The fact that woman looked almost like granma too-  
  
"Fuck it," she growled laying flat out on the floor, arms and legs splayed out staring up at the roof, "Not helpin' shit."  
  
A yawn almost made her face split in two, snapping her mouth shut. Her eyes blurred as sleep tried to claim her, but she was feeling fucking stubborn brushing it away. Tiller climbed on her chest, nuzzled her chin, then curled up right there tucking his head under his tail. Guess she won't be moving anytime soon now. Sullivan yawned wide again, closing her eyes, then just kept them closed letting her head loll to one side.  
  
The smell of wood smoke slowly went up her nose, making it twitch. Wet grass too found its way up there. She ignored it shifting Tiller on her chest, then found he wasn't there. She kept her eyes closed patting down her body to find him, but hit nothing other then her own clothing. She peaked one eye open, her mouth and chin fell open looking up at two moons in the sky, a thousand little pricks of light surrounded them both.  
  
"Hagfish shit," she jumped off the ground looking about herself, over the multitude of trees, of long grasses, the smell of wet ground. To the run down shack right there, a boiling pot hung over a fire. She jumped several feet in the air when the door swung open, a white haired woman strolled out in strange clothing, her hair fashioned into horns on her head twined in red.  
  
Another trailed after the horned haired woman, one she remembers seeing a long time ago in a purple gown.  
  
"Mother, I won't go! You can't make me go with them!"  
  
The old woman snapped at her, "You will dear girl, you've been itching to leave for years. When I mention it, act feign to the idea, then, and only then you can forge your own path."  
  
"What are you planning you old hag? Your always plann-" the dark haired woman with yellow eyes got struck down, she clutched the side of her face growling, "Typical, thats ALL you will ever do. Fine, I'll go, but mark my words _'Mother'_ , I will have my due."  
  
"As will I my dear girl. One day, I will have mine," the white haired woman threw her head back and laughed up into the nights sky.  
  
Sullivan couldn't believe what she was seeing or hearing right now. Sounds so fucking familiar, but yet it ain't at all. The world around her shifted, it drifted away, forming, shaping changing, blurred everything then snapped back into view. She could also feel that someone was standing behind her, but the scene playing out right in-front just made her ignore it.  
  
The very same green crystal thing hung up in mid-air, the grey skinned giant she knows called Adaar had his hand out. Pale green raced up his arm, twining around it, around his fingers with his hand out. Sullivan looked down at her own arm, same but no, the other pattern there wasn't the same when she looked, not like the Adaar's. But the world was still frozen in place with pale green coming out from his palm into the crystal.  
  
"What are we seeing, little fish? What is all this?"  
  
"FUCK!" she ended up stumbling forward at his voice right behind her, "Don't bloody do that, big fish! Oh, think my heart done burst."  
  
The Outsider smirked wide, then looked up at the green crystal, "I still want to know what that is. And the sound as well... do you hear it?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah I do. Right in here," she tapped her chest, "Hear it in him, in the green thing, in blue stuff called lyrium. Its like whale song, but more, clearer? Not so, faded? I dunno, this is kinda weird for me too, you know."  
  
"My thoughts exactly. And who were the two women before? They had the same colour eyes as the one in your previous vision. Related perhaps? I feel none of them, no echoes, no connection, nothing at all. But-" he stepped closer to her, "But, its there inside you. Right there on the edge of memories. Almost as if they were passed down to you."  
  
Sullivan frowned thinking about it. Passed down? Mother never passed her anything other then her colour eyes and hair, the pale skin. Father gave them nothing either, other then made her hate him. Maybe granma?  
  
"Dunno. I really don't- SHIT!" she squeaked when the world shifted again, slowly at first, then blurred like she was running too fast. The Outsider grabbed her arm pulling her back as the feeling of heat went over everything, the smell of something she doesn't know stung her senses.  
  
The sounds of something tearing like before echoed right through her body, cold fingers dug hard in her shoulders when the blur stopped. Everything was burning, everything. Blue and green fire licked up into the sky, see-through people fought hideous things she's never seen before. The same people in the Seeker armour fought against them all. The people with pointy ears she now knows are called elves fought everything too. Winged beasts she knows as dragons flew high up into the swirling clouds, never coming back down.  
  
Rocks on fire fell from the sky after the dragons left, making crystals erupt from the ground, right through a lot of them killing everything it touched. She could feel wet roll down her face looking at the destruction of this place, how it was burning from inside and out as a war raged on. The light brown haired woman from the vision was running away from the fighting mass, to the man called Kieran in the mirror. She knew-  
  
"Thedas is burning," she mumbled, "He did this to 'em. He killed 'em all," Sullivan choked on her sobs, "She was angry he did it, she couldn't stop the wolves. She did the one thing that went against everything she was: She saved her daughter, her granson, his partner and child. The last of those who stood here, giving 'em one final gift before she left too."  
  
Her friend wrapped his arms around her shoulders, resting his head on-top of hers, "This world died, these are your memories passed down. Your gift, little fish, so they are not forgotten, so they live on through you. Is there anything else in your memories you can find to who these wolves are?"  
  
"I, I dunno. I dunno how I'm doing this shit, for fucks sake. And this," she put her marked arm out, "why ain't it the same as Falco, as Daud, the little boy?"  
  
They both froze when the world shifted once more, his arms tightened around her. She grabbed his arms just as tight, standing in some room with people she doesn't recognise at all from dreams. The same strange pattern she drew was on rugs on the floor, on shields on walls, on the one who looks almost familiar. A short man with the huge crossbow was flapping his arms about as he spoke.  
  
"Maferaths balls, Hawke! We gotta do something. Blondie's tearing his hair out."  
  
"I know that," Hawke hissed, "Makers breath, Bethany's still locked up and Cullen's as useless as a lump of mabari shit! FUCK! Meredith better pray when I get there, like a lot."  
  
This white haired elf dressed in black just scoffed loudly in the room, "They are doing their job, Hawke. I hope your not suggesting we get the mages out with no oversight! Blood magic would be-"  
  
"NOT. NOW. FENRIS! If you don't wanna help," Hawke spat pointing his finger at the elf, "then leave. I'm not having that fucking bitch kill my little sister. And by the fucking Makers cock, if I find out she's been touched, then I'll kill every last Templar. Got it!"  
  
"He sounds like Falco, wouldn't you say?"  
  
Sullivan nodded her head tucked under his, "Yeah he does. Wait-" she squinted her eyes at the pattern on the elf called Fenris' arms, then down to hers, "Fucking shit, its almost the same! Look," she pointed, "almost the same! But the rest," she hummed tracing her fingers over it to the top of her arm, "its the Adaar's weird shit. With your bit right there nestled in it."  
  
"Perhaps this Fenris was an important roll some how? The Adaar as well? Then it became etched on your skin as a reminder," his arms tightened briefly then lets her go, "Can you rid of this so we can return to how my home looks, little fish? I think we've seen enough."  
  
She did, the world slipped away from them, the familiar shapes of his home came into view. But she felt hollow looking over everything, hollow and bereft that the world where granma may of come from, was gone somehow. A place she will only see in dreams and faint memories. Just like Ireland. No, no, this is home now, all of this is home to her now. She's going to be here longer then she would of been back in Ireland, on the Isle of Man too.

Thedas was a place that no longer existed.  
  
Hands cupped her cheeks, thumbs wiped the salty tears that rolled down her face. She just flung herself at her friend, clinging to the back of his coat as she sobbed hard into his chest. The smell of the sea felt more like home then anything else. Sullivan realised she was hugging The Outsider. A blush went on her face pulling back, then just giggled "Sorry" letting him go.  
  
"You only just realised this, little fish? Remember what I said to you, _'_ Home is where your head lays _.'_ Its true for anyone."  
  
"I don't think your chest counts as that," she giggled even more, "But yeah, I remember it. I still don't have that knife in my kidneys, so its all good."  
  
He leaned down slightly to her face, sliding his fingers through her hair, "Yes it is. Even though I know the truth of you, even though I can finally see through your eyes. Be there on the edge with you. Your still the strangest oddity to pass through the Void. A welcome one at that."  
  
"Thanks," Sullivan sighed being brought back in against his chest, "Fine, guess home is right there then. Like," a quiet yawn passes her lips, "here..."  
  
She didn't feel the light press of his lips on-top of her head, drifting off to sleep. She didn't feel the slight shudder from him either.

She didn't hear the mournful cry slipping into deep sleep back on the floor, surrounded by half chewed paper.

* * *

* * *

* * *

  
**The (Dis)Honourable Defiance of Delinquency. PT6**

Pompous, arrogant, selfish, high class elitist, pieces of shit. Thats all he could see around him, all of them. Every single one of them were people he hated, just like her. This party was going to be the death of him, and them all if that damn Overseer didn't have the music box right next to the green jello. Void take it all. Sullivan hadn't arrived yet, which was making the whole thing worse.  
  
He wanted to drink himself into a stupor listening to them all go on and on about how its the same thing every year. Whine, moan, complain about things that weren't even important. He hoped Emily never turned in these pieces of hagfish shit. Oh, did he just think that? Sullivan's getting to him with her language. Falco snorted a little behind his drink at that.  
  
"Oh, what a fabulous recreation of the Masked Felon. His mask is a bit more angry then yours, dear," wonderful, thats all he needs, "I also think his coat is black, not blue. Not bad, though."  
  
"Thank you," at least he didn't grind that out, keeping his manners, "So, do we know who's who out of the Boyle's this year? Or is it the same as last year?"  
  
The woman tittered behind both her hand and the garish mask, "No dear. I believe Esma is in white this time. Dreadfully boring though. I'm thinking of leaving early."  
  
_'Wish I could,'_ he thought to himself, the woman just flitting away like a butterfly to the next person to gossip with, _'Hurry up, Sullivan. Won't be anyone left by the time you get here.'_  
  
Falco slowly made his way around the party goers again, listening to the conversations, rolling his eyes before moving on. His fingers just itched to shoot them all in the head and be done with everything. He was slowly loosing his patience as it was. Ten fold loosing his patience over everything. Why oh why did they need him to do this?  
  
The Loyalists could of sent someone more equipped for this pomp shit.  
  
But no, he was _'Corvo'_ , he HAD to do this. Anger was slowly boiling up in him the longer he milled around them all. Anger, rage and his extremely thin patience ebbing away piece by tiny piece drinking his third tumbler of brandy. His forth nearly fell on the floor at the tap on his arm, hoping it was someone he could throttle then shove under the table.  
  
"Sorry, got all caught up at the front door," _THANK YOU SULLIVAN_ , "Uh, your shaking."  
  
"I'm trying to keep my calm right now. Its not working."  
  
She took the tumbler from his hands, "Don't think this shits gonna help. You wanna go kill someone to calm it down better?"  
  
"Void, yes," he sighed out to look at her, she knew him it seems better then most people. His eyes felt like they popped right on out of his head at her own mask, to her clothing, "Sullivan, did Piero do all that for you! You look a bit like me now," except her coat was as black as the night, her whole attire was black, "Why can't I wear black?"  
  
"Fucking shit, are you pouting? Yeah he did most of it, I just did everything else! Come on," she tugged on his arm to move. He put his finger out picking the glass up, lifted his mask away from his lips, and drank the entire glass down. Liquid courage may not be the best thing right now, but he needed it with these people all round him.  
  
The woman who commented he didn't look like himself, just clapped loudly at Sullivan strutting past her. Even pointing to him, then back at her nodding in approval. She was going to die a very slow and painful death when he gets going. They all will, but she will be the longest. Yes, she will be. He licked his lips tasting the brandy on them, along with his sweat, the taste was an unusual mix but a pleasant one following Sullivan.  
  
His eyes skimmed down her frame hidden behind the coat. He still wondered what she looked like fully, though she has yet to see him fully either.  
  
"Gimme a few. I'll get the music fucker to _Move_ elsewhere," he can hear the smirk in her voice, "Stay there and look dashing, or something."  
  
Dashing? He thinks he can do that when she rolls her shoulders stomping away. The Overseer watches her walk up to him, wave her hands about, then out the door pointing. Falco sees the man dip his head, calling for a few others around to follow him, then walks right on out. What in the Void did she just do? Sullivan motioned with her head for him to follow as several other go running out the front door, the Watch right on their tails.  
  
Several shots and the sound of the music echoed though from out there, the Butler closing the doors to protect everyone with the fighting happening.  
  
"What did you do?"  
  
"Me? Oh nothing. Just said I saw a very angry man with dark magic, attacking a young woman out there. May or may not be true," she whole body shrugs, "Who knows, might also be a rat in a dress prancing 'bout."  
  
Falco almost burst out laughing, "You put Tiller in a dress?"  
  
"Nah, he wanted to wear it. Batty ratty, I swear. So, I got 'em all out there for you, while we're in here. Your all twitchy, so go do your thing."  
  
"Are you going to join me, or watch?" his voice sounded rough, licking his lips feeling the alcohol go through him, "Two Masked Deaths taking these elitist's down? I'm so very done being here, I hope you know."  
  
Sullivan drew her sword, "The fuck you think I'm wearing this for? I never liked these posh fuckers. So," she just ran up to the nearest one shoving her blade in deep through the back of his throat, "down with 'em all!"  
  
And there goes his resolve like a dam bursting pulling his pistol free. He just blew the back of someones head off, watching in satisfied glee when rest of the elitists scream out in horror. Sullivan pulled a second sword free from inside her coat, twirled them about in her hands, then charged off when several ran off into the smoking room. The door shut behind her, screams from inside urged him on with a blood lust he now knows he has going through him.  
  
Shots were fired at his direction, he shot back filling them full of holes. He fired almost every single bullet he had, then changed to his crossbow, pinning them against walls and floors, against doors and each other. When his bolts ran out, his fingers ran over the grenades Piero made especially for him. He was yet to use one yet, but by the Void, he couldn't wait to see what will happen when he does.  
  
He put a bullet through the whale oil on the other side of the Wall of Light, watching it explode. Most satisfactory indeed.  
  
Sullivan kicked the smoking room doors open, her foot prints on the ground in blood trailed up to him, "Theres a guy left in there alive. NO, don't, he wants Waverly so he can run away with her. The rest he don't care 'bout. In fact," she pointed to the man in the rat mask adding more bullets to his pistol, "yeah, he helped."  
  
"Lord Brisby at your service. As your friend has said, the only person I wish alive is my love Waverly. The rest," the man wiped his pistol on his jacket, scoffing, "do as you see fit. A handsome fee will be given for her _'Safe'_ return to me in the cellars below the kitchens."  
  
Falco can go along with that dipping his head in agreement. Brisby dipped his head in return leaving them both to it. He licked his lips again, pushing Sullivan behind him as the front doors burst inward, the Overseers and the Watch came pouring back in. He smirked flipping the pin, throwing the grenade right in the middle of them. One, two, three-  
  
"HOLY FUCK!" Sullivan ducked when it went off, body parts and blood going absolutely everywhere painting the foyer in gore. Thuds of part still falling hit the ground, some even bounced over to them by the stairs, "What. Was. THAT!"  
  
He handed her a spare, "A grenade. Try not to throw it at yourself when you pull the pin. Unless you want to end up looking like that."  
  
"Oh, this... is... the worst idea ever. I have gotta try this shit," he could almost see the grinning smirk there behind the rendition of his mask, "I'll keep it for later though. Yes, don't you worry, I can use you. Yes I can, oh yes," she cooed tucking it away.  
  
Falco motioned up the stairs, the now defunct Wall of Light well and truly out now couldn't stop them slaughtering their way up there. His heart hammered like a drum inside his chest, his sword slicing through anything in his path, Sullivan doing the same with her two. He found the woman who said he looked nothing like himself. He grinned a feral grin telling Sullivan to run along, while he deals with the cowering bitch, to find Waverly closing the bathroom door behind him.  
  
The alcohol burned through him as much as his blood lust did, grabbing the woman by her neck, dislodging the garish mask from her head. Her graying hair was falling out from her bun a top her head, shaking like a leaf while he dragged the edge of his sword down her wrinkled face. Welts trailed it when he did it again, pushing her back against the vanity. She almost passed out digging it in even deeper through her clothes down her side. Then as slowly as he could, he pushed it in between her ribs.  
  
She kicked and screamed the more he pushed it in, her eyes bulging out her head, her lips turning a pale shade of blue shoving the blade into the side of her heart. Life slowly ebbed out of her eyes, the small spark of pathetic life she held dear, seeped out slowly twisting the blade before pulling it free. She fell from his grasp slumping to a heap on the floor.  
  
He kicked her for good measure, leaving her in a puddle of blood and urine.  
  
Sullivan's blooded foot prints weren't that hard to track going up another set of stairs, and neither were the trail of bodies left behind. Falco thinks he finally found his soul mate in the known world when he found her, he thinks he finally found the one he's been searching for, watching her slice the neck open of a woman in white. Esma, must be. Her outfit she wore was no longer white, not with the amount of blood seeping into it.  
  
"Waverly's there," she pointed to the one in black, "She passed right on out when I said _boo_. Kinda disappointed."  
  
"The other sister," he eyed the well built woman laying at his feet, "Where is she?"  
  
Sullivan snorted pointing to the window, "She jumped out. Couldn't tell what was her being in red, or what came outta her on the ground. Oh well."  
  
"Time to bring Brisby his mistress then, wouldn't you say? Do you think we're done here?" He hoped on everything they were.  
  
"Fucked if I know. Got any more boomer's? I say we just toss 'em through windows to make sure when we scarper."  
  
Yup, he was falling in love with a girl he has never seen, who's been by his side for weeks now helping him. He was in dangerous waters now hefting Waverly up onto his back, and he didn't mind it one bit at all. Sullivan made her way down after him, Tiller crawling into her pocket in his little paper dress. Silly rat.  
  
He fell in love with him too.

* * *

  
Samuel never said a word to him on the way back. He never said a peep at all, eyeing his very blooded coat and mask. But he could see the disgusted look on the old mans face, Falco was past caring at this point. The High Overseers will fall like a house of cards now, and he will be there to watch it fall apart with his own hands. Yes, for the first time since working with the Loyalists, he can actually do this now without being jumpy.  
  
The old man grunted a goodbye getting out of his boat first, leaving Falco sitting there pulling his new gloves free from his hands. Sullivan had the right idea in that stepping out the boat himself now. She should be here soon, and he needs more drinks while he cleans himself up. He doesn't want his little sister to see him like this. But she's a clever girl, she's already seen him at his worst... and at his best.  
  
This was no different. He's doing this for her. She will be Empress even if he has to take every person down for her.  
  
His room was nice and warm when he entered, the fire was stoked and roaring, clean linens put on his bed. Fresh clothing pressed and waiting for him to slip on for sleep. Everything fell onto the floor half way in, landing on his blood soaked coat. His boots he kicked off, flying into the room somewhere, his pants and smalls left in the heap right there. It was his room, he can walk around nude in it if he so wished.  
  
A brand new bottle of brandy sat on his table. He eyed the label warily, one he's never seen before. He ignored it for his already open one tucked in the back of his draw. Bottle in hand, he headed to the bath, running its taps adding a dash of bath salts to it. Steam wafted up when he stepped in, sighing with pleasure sinking down in the welcome warmth, and the other welcomed warmth going down his throat drinking straight from the bottle-  
  
"OH FUCK! Er-"  
  
He peaked his eyes open to Sullivan standing there, with her hands over her face trying not to look at him in the bath tub. Falco felt a small quirk at the corner of his mouth, drinking from the bottle again, watching her get flustered turning her back on him. Her feet were bare, wearing nothing but over the knee pants and what looked like to him, one of his shirts that was far too big on her frame.  
  
The colour of her hair was black as the night and no-where as long as he thought it would be, it was short over her head. He could also see bone piercings threaded throughout her ears.  
  
"Brandy huh," Sullivan mumbled out.  
  
"My favourite blend," his tongue licked the rim of the bottle sinking a little lower in the warm water, "Your back early."  
  
She snorted moving her head just a fraction over her shoulder, "Yeah I know. Heard the ole seadog down there grumbling 'bout what we did. Well, he thinks you did it all. But still, they ain't happy again. Anyway, Tiller ate his dress, then sicked it up in my pocket. Kinda need a bath myself, so, stealing your salts, tallboy."  
  
"Tallboy?" Falco quirked his eyebrow drinking down a large pull from the bottom, then sighed, "As if I care what they think of me. I will take the Overseers and the Abbey down piece by piece if needs be. Loyalists or no. As long as your right there with The Outsider too."  
  
She was silent shuffling on her feet over to his desk, the spare salts sat next to the new brandy there. Sullivan ran her fingers over the shape of the bottle, then hummed, "Yeah, sure. Got nothing better to do. Kinda like having a side kick."  
  
"Side kick? Wait, you think I'm the side kick!" Falco barked a laugh before dunking his head under the water, he laughed again coming back up, "Sullivan Lynch, your the side kick here, not me! Void, your impossible."  
  
"No I ain't! You drunk?"  
  
He dropped the now empty bottle on the floor, rising from the tub letting the water run down his naked body laughing again, "Getting there. I would drink the one your fingering, but it's not mine. A little suspicious sitting there next to my charms and runes." Yes, he was getting there dripping water all over the floor for his sleeping pants. But no-where near enough eyeing Sullivan with her back still turned away from him, "You drink then?"  
  
"Not really. I never drink whiskey, never will do. Brandy ain't my thing. Rum though when I can pinch it, or good wine from posh fuckers. But," she shrugged dropping her hand to her side, "not really. Don't like being drunk- please tell me you have trousers or something on right now!"  
  
"I do. Sullivan," Falco ran his fingers through his long hair away from his face, "you _can_ look at me. I'm not that disfigured hagfish, you know. I want to see the mysterious Sullivan myself."  
  
His heart pounded in his chest again at the tilt of her head, he stepped a few feet closer but no more. The alcohol was swimming in his head, maybe he was drunk when he tried to blink it away. Her head nodded, then she slowly turned around to face him. Falco's mouth went instantly dry, looking at her with the very same deep blue eyes like the Trevelyan woman. Her skin, pale as moonlight tinged with pink on her cheeks. More bone piercings threaded through her nose and brow, the one in the side of her mouth that smirked often, he came to know more then her face.  
  
"Your beautiful," fell from his lips without him knowing it, just made the pink on her face deepen in colour, her eyes searched his face before she looked away.  
  
"No I'm not! I'm just me, not some pretty trinket thats-"  
  
He cut her off putting both his hands out, "Void, you are. You look just like those two people from your dream vision. You look just like them, Sullivan." His fingers wanted to touch, wanted to feel, trace everything. There were several small scars going over her cheeks, the side of her face the closer he stepped, "Why hide that beautiful face from the world?"  
  
"I, I just do. Did say don't judge this book by its cover. So don't. Their, fuck," her bottom lip was sucked into her mouth, which just made his entire body tighten when it slipped back on out, "their my granparents apparently. Evelyn, was granma. That man Kieran must of been granda. I never saw a picture of him no-where, mother never said anything 'bout him. Eh, but, yeah," she shrugged dipping her head down away from him, "Thanks, I think."  
  
"Makes sense. May I," his head swam again, blurring his vision trying to focus on her face, "may I-" it swam again. Falco almost collapsed on the floor it swam that much. Sullivan grabbed him when he swayed again, is she saying something to him? He feels like he can't hear anything. Can't feel anything. His eyes try and focus again on something, anything, his mouth didn't work.  
  
Falco's mind blanks laying in his bed. Sullivan left him there thinking he was too drunk. He doesn't remember anything falling into a deep sleep, he doesn't remember anything at all.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

**Fury Awakens the Fire Inside. PT1**

Gone, gone, everything of his was gone. Sullivan tore almost everything apart to find anything, but there was no sign of him, nothing. Anger grew inside her climbing up on the roof, just to try and find something. Of course there wasn't going to be a fucking thing, why would there be? Fucks sake, she left him there to go deal with something fucking private. She thought he was too bloody drunk an hungover leaving him laying in bed.  
  
But no, in the three days she was away, he's gone. And so was Emily. Piero was tired up and gagged along with Sokolov in the work shop, she freed them both spitting fire the whole time they were betrayed by the so called fucking Loyalists. She should of know, she should of fucking seen it coming an said something to Falco, when she watched the subtle shift in them all.  
  
She shouldn't of kept her fucking mouth shut before she left.  
  
"Sullivan, what do you intend to do? We have no idea where they took him, where they took the future Empress either."  
  
A low growl left her throat, "I'll tear Dunwall apart to find 'em both. Fucks sake, I can't believe this shit! Wheres that seadog Samuel?"  
  
Sokolov soothed his wrists, scoffing, "With them. Why tie me up, not as if I wasn't in a cage already. No, they were going to kill us when they returned no doubt. Joplin, I think we should get to work, wouldn't you say?"  
  
"Of all the people in the known world, I never thought I'd be working along side you. Yes, we have much to do," Piero wiped his glasses with his jacket, "Sullivan, if you can wait a few hours for me to gather what I need. I can make some grenades for you, update your pistol, anything you need for this."  
  
"Hmmpph, never thought I'd meet the scoundrel Lynch either. I painted you once," Sokolov rolled his eyes, running his hand through his beard, "Now I will have to paint you as proper. A woman."  
  
She just closed her mouth instead of snapping at them both, then just waved it off nodding at Piero, handing her weapons over. Fuck, where in the Void can she start looking for Falco? Where the fuck would they of taken him? Not the Tower, no, too easy. Where would be one place no-one would think to look. A place no-one would go, even her-  
  
No, no they wouldn't of taken him there, would they? They wouldn't of dropped him in Whaler territory? Theres no way they would of left him in the Flooded District?  
  
SHIT! SHIT! FUCKING SHIT!  
  
Sullivan ran back up to her hidden room as fast as she could, if there was one place in the whole of Dunwall she didn't want to go, it was right there. If thats where he is, then they would of taken him prisoner by now. She hopes on everything he wasn't dead by the time she reaches him, because she hates to admit it, she's grown attached the fucking man. Bugger it.  
  
"Tiller, get your ratty arse in my pocket, we got work to do."

* * *

  
The stench, Holy hagfish shit, the stench overpowered her nose looking over the place. She was surprised she couldn't smell it being so close to the pub as it was. But still, her mouth puckered at the stench of corpses floating around in the green stagnant waters. She wanted to weep looking at faces she knows among the masses of dead there, others were too bloated or half eaten. Tiller kept himself curled up in her pocket, she didn't blame him climbing down the massive barricade.  
  
She didn't want to be here any more then he does, but they had too.  
  
Three days nearing four he's been here. Shit knows where Emily is right now, but if he's alive in here, when he finds out she's gone again. He'll tear the world apart to find her once more, and Sullivan was counting on it.  
  
The mark on her arm glowed briefly before settling. The smirk she had on her face running her fingers on it, grew in size. 'I know your watching, big fish. Get ready for a shitshow my friend.' A swell of appoval went through her, she smirked even more pulling her sleeve down. The stench was even worse being this close to the dead, she hopes on everything she didn't need to tred the fucking waters.  
  
Plagued rats swam the murk making their way to the ruined building she was standing on. Hmm, maybe just maybe-  
  
"OI, up here you mangy lot. Yeah you heard me. Got a job for you," Sullivan crouched down on the edge, looking at them all looking up at her with clouded eyes, "I ain't gonna be your fucking food, alright. But, theres gonna be some tasty snacks if you follow me, only killin' those I say you can kill."  
  
One of the rats huffed up at her in annoyance, then started to go after her. So she pulled her pistol out and killed him, "Thats a warning. Be my swarm, and you'll eat all the fresh meat you'll ever want. You turn on me, and your little friend there will be the least of your problems. Got it."  
  
Tiller climbed up on her shoulder, tapping on her mask in agreement. The mangy rats clumped up together so she can bind them to her mark. Good, now she's got another thing in her arsenal she can use. Though did feel fucking wierd having them there. She'll let them go when she's done, she's not a bitch in keeping them.  
  
Sullivan sighed through her nose setting off through the ruins. Bricks fell away into the waters when she brushes them, sinking slowly in the murk awakening some of the Krusts. More plagued rats ran after her, but never attacked going for the Krusts instead. GOOD, what she hoped for too having a swarm bound to the mark for now. But for some odd strange reason, she wanted to put her hand out coming to another barricade. She wanted lightening to come out from it. She didn't know what to make of that at all.  
  
Shrugging, she tried it screwing her eyes up-  
  
"FUCKING SHIT!" it actually worked racing down her arm through the mark, blasting a hole through the thing. Knocking her off her boots though, but she did it staring at the smoking and melted metal. She actually did it looking at the palm of her hand. A wave of curiosity went through her, "I know right! Didn't think that'll work, but I just- fuck me, that was-" She clamped her mouth tight at the sound of voices, the curiosity feeling turning into awe when she smirked setting both the swarm on the Whalers there, and the lightening from her fingers.  
  
The feeling was like no other, letting it pour our from her core. It. Was. Exhilarating. It was as though her body had awakened from a long slumber, setting her aflame without pain. She felt alive. Awe and curiosity turned to kinship the more her body felt on fire, a fury burned deep inside her like none she's felt before, a fury she wished she had before, jumping down to kill the rest of the Whalers with her sword.  
  
"The shit- WAIT! AIN'T HE LOCKED UP!" one of them shouted, then convulsed on the ground when the lightening struck him.  
  
Another backed away in shock when his friend burst from inside out, "Please, by the Outsider's crooked cock, please spare me!"  
  
"No," was all she said pointing at him, the rat swarm charged out from behind her, Tiller among them devouring the man alive as he screamed. She chased others down growling low in her throat, slicing down backs crippling them for the swarm, drawing her pistol shooting others in the backs of heads. If fury and wrath had a name right now, its name would be Sullivan fucking Lynch killing anything in her path.  
  
Weepers had the tops of their heads pop like champagne corks. Surviors that were left tried to flee, jumping from the ruins into the murk, only to be killed by Krusts and rats. But she has yet to find any signs of Falco, nothing at all. Which just made her anger tip over like a full jug of water. Tiller crawled up her arm, his tongue licking away the last drops of blood from his snout, then his tail leaning on her neck, "Hope your still not fucking hungry, rubbish bin. An if your gonna be sick, do it in the water this time not my pocket."  
  
He squeaked tapping her mask, dropping his tail from washing. Sullivan frowned looking down. Several Whalers were spreading out looking for her. But one- No, it can't be. It can't can it?  
  
She crawled on all fours backwards away from the one she recognises down there, making her way slowly down to give them the biggest shock of their life. No, she's not going to kill them, but she needed answers.  
  
"I don't know how it can be him. He's still locked up in the hole. Are you lot SURE," the voice barked, "If your pissing about-"  
  
"Well, hello there."  
  
The woman spun around, sword in hand aiming right at her, "You've made one shit of a mistake killing my men!"  
  
"Please, a fart could knock 'em over dead, Billie. I kinda helped 'em on their way by setting this on 'em," Sullivan lifted her marked arm, letting the lightening twirl around her fingers, "Amazing ain't it. Wanna see how it works?" She smirked pointing her finger at the assassin about to vanish. He burst outward over everyone, "Sad you'll never know this shit."  
  
"Who are you? How'd you know my name?"  
  
Sullivan snorted taking the mask away from her face, Billie's eyes go huge looking her over, "Yeah, thats right. That very same thirteen year old girl you helped four years ago, is all grown up. She has balls," she grinned grabbing her crutch, "and then some, Billie Lurk. Your boss Daud told me your full name, by the way. Where is the man? He around?"  
  
"Aislinn? Holy shit- I, I wondered what happened to you. I- you never said thank you, never gave your name, nothing. Just left until he told me he saw you months later! And now," the older woman looked over her face again, to the mark on her hand, "your marked!"  
  
"My names Sullivan Lynch, use it. That girls long gone," she spat, "I had no fucking reason to trust you or Daud back then. I still don't trust you now. I won't ask again, where is he, Billie?"  
  
"OH FUCK! Thats Sullivan Lynch?" one of the men with Billie dropped everything on the ground then tried to run away. The older woman took his knees out, then his head when he started to plead for his life. Billie looked back at her, then shook her head.  
  
"Can't tell you that, Lynch. Considering what you did to our warehouses a few years ago. What you did to OUR men! You could of joined us, you know. We could of protected you, given you a home," she stepped closer to Sullivan, "But you just left. And now, now he's going to kill you because your a threat. I should of put a bullet in your head back then. I won't make the same mistake again."  
  
Sullivan sighed replacing her mask, "As you wish. But I suggest you fucking run, Lurk, I'll give you a head start to get the fuck outta here. I'll even count to twenty while you run, how 'bout that. Cos your not gonna stop me getting to Falco, not gonna stop me getting to Daud either. Run. Now."  
  
"You woul-"  
  
"One-"  
  
"The fuck Billie-"  
  
"Two-"  
  
"He let me go-"  
  
"Three. Four. Your wasting time standing there," Sullivan cracked her knuckles, "Five-"  
  
"Shit. SHIT! Get out of here NOW!" the older woman just turned tail and ran away with the others. Sullivan looked up at the sky and counted to twenty, skipping down the broken steps humming the numbers. Tiller poked his head out of her pocket, his tail flicked once, then right on back to sleep. She wasn't going to kill the woman, but she may put a bullet in Daud's eye if he really does have Falco locked up somewhere.

* * *

  
Dusk was slowly setting in, her heart sank as much as the stones she was dropping in the murk. Her black coat long left behind now after finding his, wrapping it around her shoulders to keep out the cold seeping into her. Sullivan closed her eyes dropping the stones, putting her hand in the pocket pulling his mask out from within.  
  
He was gone, they killed him and left his stuff to rot like everything else around her. And for the first time in years, she felt alone, bringing the mask close her face, putting her forehead on its forehead and cried against it. He was gone. Emily was going to be corrupted, twisted, forged into something she's not now. The Loyalists had won and there was nothing she could do.  
  
Oh yeah, she could kill them all. Be easily fucking done. But she's not a heartless beast in killing a little girl. She won't do that to Falco, she won't do that to his father either, to her mother. But he was gone, and there was nothing she can do. She can't find his body, she can't find anything other then his shit scattered like it was thrown away. And the fact Daud had killed the fucking Empress, Corvo, with Billie-  
  
Fuck, she should of killed the woman when she had a chance. Too late now, she's gone from here.  
  
"Now what we gonna do, Tiller? Think we should leave Dunwall?"  
  
Her friend didn't say anything curled up in her lap. So she didn't say anything either laying down, her feet dangling over the edge. Felt like weeks she's searched this place top to bottom, and all she has now are remnants in her hands. The Outsider was silent even through her mark. Felt like everything was silent around her clamping her eyes shut tight. Tears still rolled down her face like they wouldn't fucking stop.  
  
The fury in her burned still, yes, but so did sorrow flooding her, "Guess we can fuck off else where, right?"  
  
"Why would you do that? Dunwall's a perfectly lovely place to live."  
  
Sullivan jerked her eyes open, practically flying off the ground to the voice behind her. Tiller chittered, running around in circles around his feet. She wanted to bark at him in anger, standing there drenched, but yet-  
  
"Your- your alive! FUCKING HAGFISH NUTS, YOUR ALIVE!" she flung herself at him, his coat dropped away from her shoulders gripping him hard, "You stupid, fucking, stubborn- don't do that again, you hear me!"  
  
Falco gripped her just as hard, "In the fact they backstabbed me? Poisioned me, left me to damn well die here? I'll try not to next time."  
  
"Next time," she punched his arm, "Ain't gonna be a next time you dick! Cos your gonna rip 'em apart like rats on a corpse."  
  
He smiled softly down at her, pulling back, "Void right I will. Theres something I need to deal with first though. So I hope you don't mind when I do it," his lips crashed against hers when he bent down, her mind swam trying to fight it. Sullivan's eyes slipped closed, gripping the back of his wet shirt tight in her hands, drowning in the feeling inside and out. She didn't know if she was shaking because she was cold, because she was shit scared, or because she was enjoying it.  
  
She finally opened her eyes when he pulled away, his pale blue ones looking into hers just made her want to paint a blood red stripe over his nose. Why in the fuck was she thinking that right now of all times?  
  
"Emily's been taken," she finally said something to fill the silence letting him go, "We dunno where though."  
  
Falco slowly frowned bending down to pick his coat up, "We?"  
  
"Me, Piero and Sokolov. Dunno where the rest of 'em are."  
  
"Huh. So the old goat and the tinkerer are alive. Good. Oh, by the way," he pulled something out of his back pocket, "Daud say's he's not going to be coming after you. He's left Dunwall when I spared him. He, actually admires that you pulled yourself out of a hole and built yourself up, Sulli. He wants you to have this."  
  
She blinked at the wristbow in his hand, "But-" she was just so confused taking it from him, "you spared him?"  
  
"I know."

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

**Fury Awakens the Fire Inside. PT2**

The few days previous.  
  
His head felt like it was split in two trying to open his eyes. Felt like his inside's were on fire when he coughed. He remember's voices talking, he remember's someone kicking him in the chest laying prone on the floor. He remember's the colour of Sullivan's eyes, but thats all he remember's laying there.  
  
He tried to open his eyes again coming out from his sleep, looking blearily up at the darkening sky. Samuel, he see's Samuel there guiding his boat away from the Hound, away from his little sister. He felt cold laying on the bottom on the boat, cold and ashamed.  
  
"Sorry, Falco," the old man spat out the boat, "Your just in the way. Not gonna to say I'm sorry to see you go, but should of known you weren't Corvo. Your taller then him, your voice is deeper too. But you messed up killing everyone, now, no-one's gonna miss you."  
  
'Betrayer,' his mind screamed trying to move, 'All of them betrayed me. Betrayed Emily. All of us.'  
  
"I poisoned you, Falco. Not saying sorry for that either. Right," the boat stopped, someone jostled it from the back where he couldn't see, "we're here. Get him off my boat-"  
  
Falco passed out again, remembering nothing once more.  
  
Something jerked his body awake, something slapped his face hard. He tried to open his eyes again, hearing voices right next to him. Something slapped his face again, then a hand grabbed his hair lifting his head up. A face met his, even being in this state, he knows the outline right there. He remembers that ouline when they were killed.  
  
"What have we here? Well, if it isn't the one who survived," the voice was almost mocking but not, "Nice gear, shame you won't be needing it."  
  
Falco reached out on instincts even in his state, watching the box fall away from him. His coat held in another hand, the silver fish fell out of it joining his weapons Void know's where down there. Tears pricked his eyes watching the thing Sullivan gave him glint in the morning sun, the green blue shimmered then dimmed, then he saw it no more. He wanted to scream when his face was slapped again to focus on the face.  
  
He wanted to rip the man apart with his bare hands, he wanted to rip them all apart when he passed out again.  
  
'Your beautiful.'  
  
'I'm just me!'  
  
'You look just like them, Sullivan.'  
  
Falco smiled in his haze remembering that. The way she sucked in her bottom lip into her mouth. The colour of her eyes, her skin, her hair. How he turned the Void God down, pushing him away because he was unsure. The hurt in his voice that sounded so young and small. He should of kissed him, he could of fallen in deep, but didn't.  
  
'Wake up.'  
  
He shook his head wishing he did a lot of things, but never did.  
  
'Wake up, Falco. This is not the place to lay your head and call home.'  
  
"What-?" his voice sounded rough, sounded like mush, "I don't-"  
  
'GET. UP! This is not your bed, not your home. Little fish is looking for you here. Now get up!'  
  
Falco's eyes fly open, a rat ran away from his chest sitting upright. Where in the Void was he? His eyes skimmed up, then groaned. He was a prisoner again, locked up in some hole in the ground. He moved his wrists then found them bound in rope to the ground, his legs too when he looked. The brown rat slunk around his boots, it beady eyes looking at him, chittering.  
  
His mind swam like he wanted to pass out again staring at the rat. Then, then he felt smaller some how, looking up at himself sitting there, bound. What the- Wait- was he in the rats body or something? Falco moved the rat closer to his bound legs, he, actually made the thing move thinking about it. Void, he was possessing the damn rat right now! All he needed to do-  
  
It started to chew through the ropes, gnawing away like it was starved. He made it move to the binds on his wrists. He didn't think he liked this very much at all. No, he really didn't unpossessing the thing, breaking the binds. He didn't want to do that again in such a small body.  
  
Falco looked up at the wood covering the hole, looked up at the Whaler walking over it above him. He didn't like the rat possession, maybe he can use it on-  
  
"What the-" oh, that was a womans voice behind the mask looking down on himself there, "Perfect." He used the woman to get him out, he used her to open the wood hatch, he then used her to look about. Two others nearby, not even looking at what she was doing right now. Too busy gossiping to each other to notice the woman pushing the blade through her chest as Falco unpossessed her, climbing from his prison.  
  
He took the sword from her ribcage saunting up to the gossiping pair. A smirk went over his face taking one by surprise, drawing his blade through the Whalers stomach, its contents spilling out onto the ground. The other one vanished, he felt the air move right by him, then behind him. Pathetic. He turned the blade around and pushed back, hitting his target trying to take him down from behind.  
  
And what was even more infuriating, turning the bodies over, not one of them had any pistols on them. Not one of them. Wonderful. He's going to have to find the box the man dropped somewhere, find the silver fish Sullivan gave him. He's not leaving that behind, his weapons he couldn't care less about, but that- that was HIS! And so were his damn mask and coat, where every they maybe too.

* * *

  
Anger filled him hunting through this place, anger and fury killing anything in his path. He lost his patience hours ago now trying to find where this 'Daud' was, where his damn silver fish was. But no, there was nothing but rats, Weepers and Whalers trawling this place. The occasional Watch crossed his path, he crossed them out severing their heads from necks.  
  
He didn't have time for this. No time at all.  
  
But- he did have time to hear that he was on the other side of the Flooded District killing people. A smile went over his face at that, he knows exactly who that is too, and by the Outsiders stunning eyes, he hopes she kills them all.  
  
'She is,' a whisper went through him, 'Like fury unbound trying to find you.'  
  
The smile split his face in two as much as the sword he drew over someones neck. He didn't care who it was dying at his feet, he needed to find Daud and make him pay for what he's done. If Sullivan hasn't done it first. Not likely if she's at the other end and he's right up there. Sweat rolled down his lips, which he licked away getting the tang of salty copper on his tongue. Void, the taste just made his body tighten, made his pupils blow wide open dipping his head low.  
  
Blood lust ran through him picking up another sword, jumping right down in several Weepers and Krusts in some ditch. A moan left his lips cutting them all down, pushing some blood soaked man into the Krusts path. He watched them both fight each other when he spotted his weapons box, and the silver fish laying right next to it. Finally, finally he found them after what feels like weeks searching.  
  
He picked up his most prized possession, leaving his weapons laying there in the muck and made his way out.

* * *

  
"No sir. From what we gather, that was NOT Falco at all but someone impersonating him. The man himself escaped his confines," the assassin bowed his head to Daud, "We're unable to find him either."  
  
"Then make sure you deal with YOUR sentries. Lurk's gone, so it can't be her helping him. Find him, and find the one-"  
  
Falco's heard enough coming from the shadows, "No need, I'm right here. And that one, well," he smirked dipping his head, "that one's Sullivan lynch. You'll never get her you know."  
  
Daud eyed him for a moment, then shook his head at the assassin, "Leave us. This is between me and him. We need to talk as it is."  
  
"Yes sir, But what about-"  
  
The man dropped dead on the floor with a small bolt in between his eyes, "Should of just left. Now, shall we talk or would you prefer to dance?"  
  
"What in the Void have I got to talk to you about? You killed the Empress, you killed Corvo. You then kidnapped my little sister and left her in a WHOREHOUSE! What," Falco spat on the floor, "have we got to talk about?"  
  
"Everything. How about we dance first. I win, I get to say nothing at all. You win, I'll tell you everything. Deal?"  
  
The man was actually bargaining with him? Falco would be impressed if he wasn't like a tidewave of anger lunging at Daud. "Dance precious," he smirked slipping into the shadows, then blinked up behind the man. Who then vanished out the way before he could drive his blades home.  
  
"No pistol? I'm shocked," a bolt whizzed right by his ear, "Thought you enjoyed using that, Falco. Or couldn't you find your pretty little box?"  
  
"Fuck my shit. I'm taking a leaf out of Sullivan's book here," he twirled the blades in his hands, "You know her, don't you."  
  
Daud didn't say anything for a while, neither of them did clashing sword against sword. The man was actually quiet handsome when he parried the blow, may have an ugly scar going over his eye, but he was pretty handsome.  
  
"I met her a few times," Daud finally spoke in the shadows, "Met her a few months after some kid raped her too. She thought I was gonna do it to her."  
  
Falco froze to the spot. Raped? She, she was- "WAIT! What do you mean-" Then it hit him, why she hid behind her mask, why she dressed like a man, why she flinched when he- "Oh Void, I should of realised."  
  
"Yeah, you should of, kid," a blade went over his neck, "My second found her, she was devastated with what happened. Gave her bed, her clothes up for the girl. And she walked right on back out five days later when she finally woke up. You yield, or are we gonna dance more so you'll listen."  
  
He swallowed sharply as he shook. The swords dropped from his hands, "I'm not yielding, but tell me everything."  
  
"Good, was gonna anyway. Listen, I regret what I did, okay. I leave a trail of red behind me and she was no different. Your father too, kid," Daud sounded pained, he didn't think the man who killed them both would sound like that, maybe, just- "Burrows hired us to do it. Was money, so we did it. I lost respect with the black-eyed bastard because of it, I lost respect in myself when I heard Emily was put into some brothal."  
  
Falco lost his temper when he swung around, clocking the man in the face sending him sprawling on the floor, "Your pathetic little confession's done NOTHING right here. Your still going to die, you know that right!"  
  
"WAIT! I'm not done yet," the man wiped the blood from his lips, "Kid, if you don't believe what I'm gonna say next, listen to my audiograph. Read my journal. Just... don't kill me."  
  
"Talk. Better make it fucking good."  
  
Daud sighed, "It is, trust me. You ever hear the name Delilah Copperspoon?" Falco nodded, "The Outsider tasked me to, well, to investigate her for my sins. So I did with Billie. Delilah's a witch, turned Billie against me. She created a covern I took down. I had too, when I found out what she was planning. She was gonna possess Emily, take over as Empress in her body. I, I killed her to attone for what I did, kid. I stopped her from taking the little girl over. Ask him yourself, you bear his mark."  
  
He did, sending a query out. 'Yes,' was sent back. Falco hummed mulling everything over when Daud spoke again.  
  
"She did good you know. When she walked out that day, when I found her a few months later, I could see was gonna pull herself up. She did," the man smiled nodding his head, "she killed a whole load of my men. Overseers and Watch. She did what no-one else wanted to do, and kid, I gotta say, I admire Sullivan for what she did. Billie always thought I'd turn on her. Why would I? Sullivan took that hurt, she took her own pain and forged a path not many's done before. Here," the older man took his wristbow off, then offered it, "Give it to her. She's special,  
kid. Look after her."  
  
Falco took the thing, thumbing it then decided, "Get out of here. I never want to see you again. If I-"  
  
"You won't, trust me on that. Piece of advice: Our choices always matter to someone, somewhere. Make yours count."

* * *

  
The water didn't feel any better swimming back through it all. He still never found his coat and mask when he left Daud's place. He couldn't care less he left his weapons behind, he can get more. Plagued rats swam by him, ignoring him completely right by his face. They should of seen him as food, but they just swam right on by.  
  
He wondered why when he climbed out from the murk. Something caught his eye high above him, two somethings swinging over the side, dropping stones into the water. Sullivan's boots were right there above him. Falco's mouth split into a grin running up ruined stairs to her. His clothes stank like death, but he didn't care standing behind her laying down on the ground. His coat wrapped around her shoulders, his mask held against her face.  
  
"Guess we can fuck off else where, right?"  
  
His breath hitched hearing the saddness in her voice, "Why would you do that? Dunwall's a perfectly lovely place to live."  
  
Sullivan flew up off the ground, Tiller came running over to him, chittering, dancing around his feet happily. It was a blur what happened next with her crashing up into his chest, her hands gripping the back of stench filled shirt like her life depended on it. His breath hitched quietly again, holding her close. He wanted to damn well cry when she told him off, punching his arm playfully.  
  
But his mind swam, "Void right I will. Theres something I need to deal with first though. So I hope you don't mind when I do it," then went against everything in him when he bent down and kissed her. His eyes were closed tight pushing his lips hard on hers, feeling her shake in his light embrace. Was she shaking or was it him doing it? He couldn't tell when he pulled back, parting his eyes to see her staring at him with a flushed face and deep red lips.  
  
They spoke again, but his mind felt else where, everything felt else where picking his coat up. Then handed her the wristbow, confusion was written on her face but accepted it when he told her what happened between them. Daud was right, he's made his choice right there and then.

* * *

* * *

* * *

  
**Fury Awakens the Fire Inside. PT3**  
  
"No, no, no, thats not right, Joplin. Your not listening!"  
  
"Your a pompus windbag! Look, if we-"  
  
Sullivan and Falco cleared their throat's behind the bickering pair, who both jumped at the same time. She snorted a laugh while he just shook his head at them both.  
  
"Well its about time you found him," Piero laughed, "Could use your skills right about now. We know who has Emily. Better sit down."  
  
Falco ground his teeth, "Not sitting for this."  
  
"The Lord Regent has her on KingSparrow Island along with Pendleton and Martin. Farley, is the new Lord Regent, Falco," the spectacled man sighed, "In such a short time as well. A week, A WEEK!"  
  
Sullivan slowly backed away from them all, edging her way out the work shop for fresh air. No wonder there was bloody Watch out there like hunting wolfhounds sniffing around. No wonder there was the fucking Tallboys prancing about. Shit, thats all they fucking need. She's never gone the KingSparrow before, she had no need to. Now, thats where Emily was? Bugger it.  
  
How in the name of everything were they going to get in there to save her?  
  
"Sulli, we need a plan," Falco tapped her shoulder, "That place is a beast to get in and out of. We can't just waltz in there and hope for the best this time."  
  
"I know," she sighed pinching the bridge of her nose, "Why I needed air. Well, this air, not old man air in there. I wish I told you sooner when I thought something was up. Feels like my fucking fault shes gone. Should of just stayed instead of- Instead of- FUCK!"  
  
He put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her back against his front, "I knew sometime ago too. I just thought it was me being jumpy, but it wasn't. So your not the only one who feels as though they failed here. I won't let it get me this time, they took her, they poisoned me and left me to die. Piero's going to make, along with Sokolov, very potent grenades for us."  
  
"Oh goody," Sullivan clapped her hands in joy, "Boomers. Can I shove one down Samuel's neck?"  
  
"Sulli the Grim, I'll help you shove them down everyones throats!"  
  
She tilted her head back to look up at him, and there was that smirk he loves playing on her lips, "Changing my name now? Ain't two changes enough, now I gotta have a third! Shit on a fucking stick. Fine, fine, Sulli the Grim, at your service."  
  
Falco threw his head back and laughed up into the sky when she saluted at him. His hand tightened around her briefly, then lets her go so he could bathe in his room. His room. Wouldn't be his much longer when they finish this. No, not when Emily becomes Empress.  
  
The fire was long cold in his room, fresh linens and pressed clothes that were a week old by now. But it felt empty, his charms and runes were gone, no sweet hum from any of them standing by his table, running his fingers down the bath salts. The only hum, the only feeling of the Void was in his being now. And the feeling of the one thing he's neglected for years deep inside him, looking down at Sullivan waving her hands at Sokolov. The old man laughed patting her shoulder before she looked up at him, saluting again.  
  
Love. Thats what it was that confused him for so long. The one thing he thought would get rejected, brushed aside like everything else he's ever done. Love, was the last thing he thought he'd find on his way here. Let only indulge in it. Falco smiled down at her, saluting back picking the bath salts up. He needed to get the stench of death out of him, before he covered himself in it all over again.  
  
Sullivan rolled her eyes when he stepped back from the window. She still didn't quite know what to make of what kinda happened between them, the shift was real, the feeling from friendship was real. The unease going through her, was unreal. She didn't know what to do. Sullivan was petrified really. So, she sent out a small but very asking question to her friend, running up to her hidden room.  
  
'I'm scared. I'm scared of all this.'  
  
There was silence for a long while while she sorted out the shit she needed for this rescue. Her whole arm flared, the Void seemed to roll through her like water, and there he was right in-front of her.  
  
"Why? There wouldn't be anything to be scared of. Unless its flat out rejection," she saw his shoulders slump minutely, his brows furrow just a small fraction, but his dark eyes never left her own gaze at him.  
  
Then... it hit her like a brick in the face. "Fucking shit! Holy fucking shit," her whole body stumbled backwards into nothing, "You- you went after him!" her voice went up several pitches. Sullivan shook her head rubbing her temple, "Ugh, right, this ain't a mess or nothing. See," she jabbed the air right at him, "See this is why after- why I- THIS is why I never let anyone close to me! Because of fucking hagfish shit like this, like Reid, like any fucking thing out there! I can't-"  
  
"Little fish, I tried too hard, I thought that whats he wanted," The Outsiders voice went flat and small, "Thought thats what I wanted," he lets out a sad sigh, "In truth, what I want is to be free. To be who I was meant to be before everything was taken from me. When they murdered me, slit my neck. When they pampered me in fine silks and rings. When they bound me to the Void four thousand years ago! HOW CAN I BE ME ANYMORE! WHEN I AM NOTHING BUT THE VOID!"  
  
The world felt like it shook, felt like the pain from him hit her square in the chest. Sullivan felt sure the Void God was going to burst into tears. The pain swelled the more everything grew angry and bitter. Tears rolled down her cheeks instead when she sobbed on her knees at the pain, at the hurt, at the abandonment ripping through her core. Memories, little flickers of images ran through her mind the more the pain flowed.  
  
Blood. So much blood. Smoke. Fire. Screaming. Hurt. Bruises. Abuse after abuse afer abuse. Dark eyes staring right into her soul. Eyes that turned to compassionate red. Then to grey. So much pain, blood, fear, hate, hurt. Song after song, drowning each other out like crescendoing chimes of bitterness. Songs that had rhythm. Songs that yelled. Songs that weeped tears of joy and endearments. Green overlapping blue swallowing darkness in the light. Bound, flogged, hung up, stung up. Loves lost and lost grief. Bitter taste, bitter laugh, bitter breath.  
Darkness enveloping, calling, seeking, searching through centuries. Found then floundered. Broken...  
  
Sullivan's heart felt like it burst in her chest collapsing on her hands retching on the ground. Her head swam as everything and nothing went through her at once. She felt like her whole body was on fire, was icey cold. Felt like lightening raced into the floor, scorching anything it touched. A howl left her throat lifting her head up, a howl that felt ear piercing, felt mournful and wailing.  
  
She could finally see, she felt like she could see everything. Felt like she opened her eyes for the very first time, felt like she took her very first step like a child would. Fingers brush down her face, then through her hair as she sobbed hard. The smell of leather smothered her nose when she breathed in it. Her own fingers vice gripped the coat in her hands, her tears staining it the more she sobbed.  
  
"Little fish," the voice murmured in her hair, "Forgive me, I didn't realise-" his voice trailed off. Silence hung in the air again around them, Sullivan had no idea what the fuck just happened at all, but it still ripped through her like an understanding at any rate. An understanding she knew buried deep inside her, from both her own pain, and one that was passed on down like some trinket.  
  
"I see it. No," her voice didn't sound like her own, it sounded nothing like her usual twang of Dunwall and Irish mix, it sounded rough and needy, "theres nothing to forgive. Only Gods know true pain, they see it, they play with it, they taunt it and flaunt it. But they hurt as much as anyone else. Her gift wasn't just memories." Sullivan pulled back looking over his face, "It was the truth. The only truth a God knows. One who's been through it, seen it, felt it, lived it. No, theres nothing to forgive. For there is only vengeance. For there is no  
pain. There is only love. There is no darkness. For there is the light. The God that was not a God, died, to save me. Her legacy."  
  
The Outsider gently nodded cupping her face, "I know," he murmured close, oh, so very close so she can see the hidden truth behind the darkness covering his pale eyes, "I didn't relise my own wants would do this. What was there inside you either." Both of them swallowed deeply looking at each other, kneeling on the ground one set of fingers still digging, the other set trail down pale tear stained cheeks.  
  
Sullivan buckled completely and kissed him. Her heart still pounded as though it was going to perish, her fingers slacking to bring him closer. It was the shudder in the breath against lips, she didn't knows who's it was that just made the two sets of hands and fingers tighten again. But she buckled, going against everything she put barriers up for, and now- now-  
  
"Now you are torn," the tang of his breath graced her lips, sweet heady tang of the sea that beckoned more then anything, "I know what else you are thinking. Don't think I can't feel it either, little fish."  
  
"Don't push me away. Fucks sake, don't you dare!"  
  
Tears a new ran down her cheeks, the soft crook of a sad smile etched his face, "See, I knew before you even said it. Go to him, help him. You can't help me, little fish. But he needs you more. He's fallen in love with you, he would never hurt you. The one who carries a small piece of a God within them, can't help this one."  
  
The scream that was wrenched out of her mouth, almost deafend her when the Void and him slipped out of her grasp. It just made her anger, her fury, her pain, triple in size when her door was flung open showing a very disheveled Falco standing there. His wet hair trailing down his shoulders, his blue eyes wracked with worry when he ran in, practically falling onto the floor taking her shoulders as she cried.  
  
She was drowning all over again, but this death felt bittersweet indeed, falling in deep to those blue eyes that reminded her of anothers. She still wanted to paint a red stripe over his nose, to make him the bird he was named for. To the man he almost resembled: Hawke.

* * *

  
Falco gripped her shoulders when she screamed again. But his couldn't look away from her eyes boring straight into his, boring right in there with regret, pain, and Void knows what else staring at him.  
  
"Sulli," he spoke as quietly as he could, "tell me whats wrong. Is- was- is it me? Have I-"  
  
She cut him off shaking her head, "No, no, not you. We gotta help him, I know what he fucking said, but- but- Why me? Why the fuck do you- I don't- I can't- I just-"  
  
"Your not making any sense," dread was going through him with her babbling, the tears rolling down her face, "Breathe and tell me again, please."  
  
Sullivan sucked in several deep breaths, wiping her sodden face. Falco waited patiently letting her shoulders go, remembering what Daud said to him about what happened to her. Maybe, just maybe he shouldn't of kissed her. Maybe he's going about this all wrong if she-  
  
"Why me, Falco? Why the fuck have you fallen in love with me of all people? He loves you, he, he can- I'm trying, but, why me? I don't get it."  
  
A sad smile went over his face, "Truth be told, I fell in love with the idea of Sullivan Lynch several years ago. We all heard the stories, we all thought you were a man. But I, liked the idea of you. And yes," Falco ran a hand through his hair then sighed through his nose, "I know about The Outsider. I, fell in love with the idea of him years before you, Sulli. I was enthralled of the God of the Void. I still am. But, then you come along all fire and blood right into my line of sight. I fell in love with who you were behind the mask before you even showed your face.  
  
Your beautiful, Sulli. I understand now why you hide it, why you dress the way you do, everything. You were a mystery everyone wanted to know about as much as he is. Your still a mystery, one I can't think of being apart from now, even in the few months of doing all this with you. I fell in love with you, before I knew I'd fall in love. Blood and shit, that doesn't make any sense at all."  
  
Her face blushed pink over her pale skin, her pupils dialated searching his own eyes. Sullivan turned her head away from him, small stuttering breaths just made his own hitch when she swallowed deeply. Then-  
  
"Your an idiot," Falco fell on his backside at that, "A fucking idiot, you know what right? Falling in love with two people. You do know this one right heres a bit of a fucking mess, right? A piece of some old God shoved right up in their chuffin' soul without them knowing it. Yeah," she nodded at his wide eyes, "I do. Worse then his by the way. Well, not worse, but different, a legacy kinda thing. But still, your an idiot who's fucking handsome as sin itself. Eyes the colour of cloudless skies. Hair the colour of rich nights. Your killing me here, you know.  
I never wanted anything to do with all that after- I came into your sights? Fuck you, idiot, you came bounding into mine."  
  
Somehow, she pinned him on his back, his hands held onto the ground on either side of his head with that damn smirk on her face. Then, then, then, his mind flipped when she kissed him, gripping her fingers tight falling even more head first into it. Falco gave out a very soft moan when she nipped his bottom lip, then licked away the sting, her warm breath ghosting over his face, "I kissed a God too, you know. And you, you just kissed two. Lucky man."  
  
"Sulli, Void take it!" he snorted craning up to take her lips again, but she moved out the way grinning, "I wouldn't do anything you never wanted, I hope you know. Not unless you said so. I can never do that to someone. I would never hurt you."  
  
"Oh? Killin' 'em ain't doing nothing then? Thats a kinda hurt you know," she smirked, "I can speak, considering I've done that. Moot. Bloody. Point."  
  
"Then why are you making it?" he smirked back shifting his knees so she slid forward right over his mouth, "I've never been with anyone because I never knew what I wanted. But I do now," he smiled softly kissing under her chin, then inhaled the scent of her against her neck. She smelt like a raging storm, lightening and thunder. Rain and night. His lips pressed a light kiss right against her jugular, flicking his eyes to her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, once again I ended at a juicy bit...  
> Dunno if I'll ever return to this story. I really wanted to do this crossover, but it was never meant to be in the end :/


	10. The Band of Blighters. (Ch One & Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mari Hawke joined Cailan's army to get away from her family, to get out the shadow of her elder brother. What she didn't count on was being part of something MUCH larger then herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say, I've always liked the idea of a Male Morrigan AKA Morgan, how his mother would deal with him. Also Hawke added to the mix, a very custom Hawke. So I shook the entire Origins game in a cup and this is what poured out! I have completely destroyed certain things and re-written them. Ahh tis fine destroying, but tis more fun to make it your own.
> 
> Changed the name of the story a little. Was orginally **'The Blighted Buggers Club'** (Changed it because I realised 'Buggers' means something else. Its a Brit term for playful swearing, I realised it also means something offencive for those who don't know brit/ozzy speak. My bad.)
> 
> Yes, Morgan has a slight speech impediment. Do you blame him having one, with a mother like Flemeth?

**One. Ostagar's Just Fine.**

Carver glares daggers at his sister, literally pushing them out of his eyes into the back of her head when she walks away from him. Mari knows he's doing it, and she doesn't give a rats bollock about it. She wanted to be here, she made a POINT of being here regardless what the hell he said.  
  
Carver can go suck it.  
  
Though he probably has, knowing him.  
  
_"Marian, you can't go," her mother whined at her, practically on her knees with Bethany rolling her eyes huffing next to her. "What if something happens to you? What if the Templars find out!"_  
  
_"I'm already out the damn door, mother."_  
  
And that, as they say, was the end of that discussion with her mother. But of course Carver would end up finding her in the encampment, enraged that she even came here just to prove a point, just to get out of his fucking big fat shadow.  
  
_Bastard._  
  
Bah, second youngest out of four bloody children, so of course she gets treated like a child every damn day. Child, shes twenty-three for fucks sake, Bethy's the baby at fourteen. But no, shes the baby, all because shes the blackram of the family, all because she wants to be different then everyone else. Father loved her individuality, her uniqueness, but hes dead now so Carver has to be the big fucking dog and Garrett caught in the middle of it all.  
  
Mari stops her walk sucks in several deep breaths, then lets out a rather loud sigh when she hears Carver shouting in the camp. Of course hes shouting, of course he wants everyone to hear his bloody voice, because hes the biggest damn tit there ever was.  
  
No, no, Mari had to calm down and find her scouting party. She didn't want to leave pissed, she didn't want to take out her anger on everyone. Unlike Carver, who's still shouting over everyone else, yelling about his ungrateful bloody sister.  
  
_"Mari, you fucking go, your never coming back here. GOT IT!" he shouted at her when she walked out the door after mother ranted in the kitchen. "You go, you stay gone."_  
  
_"Like you give a fuck," she shouted back at him from outside, hoisting her very light pack on her back up more when she stormed off. "None of you ever gave a shit about me except for dad._ _So you know what; FUCK YOU!"_  
  
Mari shook her head, her black hair slipping out if her tie, earning a frustrated growl under her breath when she brushed it away. The only person she gave a damn about was father, showing her how to use her pitiful magic better, teaching her how to fight with and without a staff, teaching Bethany when she came into her magic too. Mari wished he taught her more, but Bethy came first after that pushing her out a little. Not that she minded, Bethy was a better mage then her at any rate.  
  
She wished she learned more when she resumes her walk to the scouting party, she wished she read his bloody Grimoires when she had the chance. But alas, it was never meant to be when she stormed out of that poxy house in Lothering three months prior, never to return again.  
  
And now look where she was: Sneaked her way into Cailan's army by sheer luck, pretending she was something else when they went scouting in the wilds. Yes, she was something else when she nods at the scout leader, she was a piss poor mage with nothing to fucking loose any more.  
  
So now, here they go, scouting the wilds for hunting parties of Darkspawn so they could alert the Warden's ahead of time. Maybe she should just join the Warden's and be done with it.  
  
Mari sighed out loud again, following the older man deeper into the wilds. Andraste's arse, she hated scouting, she'd rather be hitting something with her stave, or shooting lightening at fool's. Mari snickered to herself at that, oh to watch them dance before they died, bodies twitching and writhing and then she'd laugh more when they fall down dead, still twitching.  
  
Oh, she wasn't macabre at all. Nope. She didn't take after father in that at all. Not one bit. She didn't find death, blood nor bones to be highly fascinating in the least.  
  
"OI, 'awke, you listnin'?"  
  
Mari wrinkled her nose up, rolling her eyes at the man in-front of her, "Actually, no I wasn't. What you want?"  
  
"Get. The. Fuck. up that poxy hill and do your damn thing woman," Jermin growled at her, pointing up the small hillock. "Fuckin' Makers balls."  
  
She rolled her eyes again taking her stave from her back, making her way up the hill. She **HATED** Jermin, like a dog hates fleas and ticks. Always giving her crap because she was a she.  
  
Mari crouched down in the tall grass, parting it slightly looking down the other side. Shit. A lot Darkspawn were heading their way. She crawled away from the edge slowly so she didn't bring attention to herself to the other side, and watched in horror as another huge hunting party came the other way.  
  
"Jermin," she hissed pointing both directions, "We have problems."  
  
The scout leaders eyes go a little wide looking about himself, the other men with them pulling their weapons free. Mari slipped her eyes closed and bit her lip. Forty against six soldiers, not one of them were a Warden.  
  
They didn't stand a chance when the fighting started.

* * *

  
"And what's that?"  
  
Alistair lets out a long suffering sigh at the dwarven woman pointing at the flower, "It's a flower Natlie. A pretty white and red flower."  
  
Natlie hums under her breath looking it over, then grabs it pulling it from the ground, roots and all, then grins up at him, "I think that kennel human wanted one didn't he?"  
  
"Yeah, I believe he did," Daveth snickered out behind his hand when she stuffs it in one of her many pockets.  
  
Jory just huffed a sigh, rolling his shoulders and walked off leaving them to it catching Alistair up. "I have never met a dwarf quite like her before," he mutters to the Warden, "Most are rather-"  
  
"OOOO whats that?"  
  
"Oh Maker," Alistair groans under his breath when she darted off again.  
  
He had no idea what Jory was going to say, but he had a jist of what it was. The woman was rather a handful to say the least. Why Duncan even thought it was a good idea to allow her to join, he didn't think he'll ever know. Other then the fact this was her first time being topside and everything was fascinating. Alistair shrugged his shoulders at Jory and went to catch her up.  
  
So far being in the wilds, hasn't been pleasant for any of them at all. What with the soldier crawling on his hands and knees to them covered in blood, wanting to go back to camp. Alistair knew the man wouldn't make it back, so he put him out of his misery, which earned him a whine from the husky two-handed warrior about it, and a thumbs up from both Daveth and Natlie. All of them had managed to get several vial's of blood and then some.  
  
Jory, to him, didn't seem to be Warden worthy, being skittish and squeamish at almost everything around him. Noble born he maybe, noble taught he maybe, but the man just was not cut out for this at all when another small group of Darkspawn ambushed them. Jory just swung out wincing trying not to get his armour dirty, but Natlie jumped straight in the same time as he did, bashing a Genlock in the face with his shield while she snuck up from behind and sliced it's head off.  
  
Daveth was behind them letting loose his arrows, keeping them away from Jory who, again, winced and squeaked, when dark blood hit his armour from Natlie embedding her daggers hilt deep into the Hurlock. Now both Daveth and Natlie were Warden worthy, he thought drawing his blade through the neck of another Genlock, severing its head from its body, kicking it away to go to the next. They where willing to get their hands bloody, ready to jump in and slaughter the Darkspawn.  
  
But something was off about this though, these kills were easy when he takes down another. Alistair frowns looking down at the now dead Genlock, looking at the recent small burn marks in it's chest still slightly smoking. Then looked up to where they came from.  
  
"I think we may have a survivor," he muttered looking over his shoulder at everyone, "Be ready, just incase I'm wrong."  
  
All four of them made their way forward slowly, looking every direction incase more Darkspawn popped out of no-where around them. There were a lot of dead Darkspawn the further they walked, a LOT, and several dead scouts, several empty lyrium bottles. And to his amazement, one woman standing in the middle of the carnage around her, growling at the broken piece of wood in her hands.  
  
"Er, hello?"  
  
The woman turns around, and Maker, he's nearly knocked off his feet at her eye colour: One bright blue, one bright green. Her face and armour covered in blood, a broken stave in her hands, but it was the expression of relief on her face that made him smile at her. "You alright?"  
  
"Well thank fuck someone came. I have no idea how to get out of here," the woman smiles then grimaces holding her side, "They didn't make it."  
  
"WOW, you did all this?" Natlie piped up grinning at the woman then frowned at her, "How'd you do it?"  
  
"Um," the woman looks away, Alistair watches her shoulders slump. "Yeah, so, I'm a mage. Sort of. I didn't do all of it though," she looks back at them dropping the broken stave on the ground, "I ran out of mana. So Jermin finished them off before he died. Andraste's arse."  
  
Alistair tilts his head at the woman eyeing her from top to bottom, noting she was nothing to sniff at in the least, then shook his head. "Your not injured though? No holes, wounds, broken bones? Nothing leaking out of places that it shouldn't?"  
  
"No, I'm just holding my side for shits and giggles, Warden," the woman huffs, "I think a few of my ribs are broken. I would heal, but ugh, NO MANA!"  
  
Natlie grins up at her again holding out a healing potion, to which the woman grins down at her nodding her head, "Found this. Somewhere."  
  
"I bet you did. Oh manners, I'm Mari Hawke," she bows then grimaces again at the pain, "So, help a girl out here. Which way is back?"  
  
"May as well come with us, Mari. We still have something we need to do out here, then you can come back with us," Alistair dipped his head at her. "I'm Alistair by the way. That's Daveth and Ser Jory, and tha-"  
  
"Natlie Brosca. Thief, Casetless, and I'm gonna be a Warden!"  
  
Mari chuckled downing the health potion and sighed out dropping the now empty bottle on the ground, "Pleasure I'm sure. Anyway, lead the way Wardens."  
  
Alistair resheathes his weapon and shield, still eyeing the other woman. Maker, she was curvy, he smiled to himself, curvy, big busted, gorgeous black hair, thick thighs. He wondered what she'd look like cleaned up, and licked his lips looking ahead again leading them deeper into the wilds.  
  
"So, Natlie, first time being topside? Sucks don't it," Mari chuckled at the dwarf still grinning up at her when they followed the Warden Alistair.  
  
"Naw. Everythings just so nughumping weird, and different, and taller then me."  
  
"Yeah, should meet my brothers, like fucking giants. Specially my tit of an older brother Carver. Andraste's nipple's, I hate him so much."  
  
Natlie frowned looking up at Mari, "Why? I don't hate my sister, my mum on the other hand can drown herself in her booze."  
  
Mari sighed running a dirty hand through her loose hair, then dropped it to her side. "Long story as to why. I'm, lets just say, I'm the blackram of the family."  
  
Natlie frowns at her shaking her head, "I don't know what that is."  
  
"Ahh, okay. I'm the blacknug of the family? The odd one out?" Mari cocked her head at the dwarf and smiled at her, "It's hard to explain."  
  
Natlie nodded her head. She knew what she meant by odd one out. She was always the odd one out even being in the Dusttown Carta, she was the odd one out even in her family. She sighed wrinkling her nose up looking about herself, then pointed at something in the distance, "What's that?"  
  
Mari narrowed her eyes up then chuckled, "That is a fox. They don't normally come near people, but sometimes they do when their curious. Seems that one doesn't particularly want to say hello."  
  
"It's pretty. Everything up here is so pretty," Natlie grinned up at the taller woman waving her hands everywhere, "Your pretty too. Never seen eyes like yours before."  
  
Mari blushed dipping her head, "Heh, thanks Nat. I've not seen anyone else with eyes like mine either."  
  
Alistair shook his head at them both. Jory and Daveth were busy talking among themselves, leaving him to his own thoughts. And some of those thoughts definitely included the curvy woman behind him bent over different things. He smirked a little biting his lip but kept his head forward, they needed to find this damn cache in some poxy bloody ruins. Maker, he may love Duncan like a father, but right now, he was cursing the man something rotten. He honestly didn't want to have to babysit these new Warden's, but it was as much of a test for him as it were for them.  
  
So far, Jory was out of the running. Idiot man, squealing like a little girl. _Maker, Natlie had bigger balls then he did, and shes a shes and a dwarf!_ Alistair chuckled to himself walking up the ruined stone slope, then rolled his eyes, he was being an idiot himself right now.  
  
"Ooo, is that the thingy we need to find?" Natlie rang out running over to a broken box.  
  
Alistair heaved another sigh at her then shook his, head knocking the broken lid of the cache with his boot, "It's empty. Bloody treaties are gone!"  
  
"So how are we supposed to complete this mission with empty hands?" Jory complained. AGAIN!  
  
"I don't know," Alistair ground out glaring at the other man, "they have to be here somewhere. Look around. Mari, would you mind helping?"  
  
Mari was about to dip her head at him when she looked over his shoulder.  
  
"Well, well. What have w-w-we here? Scavengers? Vultures wonder? Picking a cor-corpse long since clean."  
  
Mari tilted her head watching the man coming down a set of broken steps, his face partially hidden under his hood but she could see his eyes peaking from under it. His yellow eyes flicked to each and every single one of them looking them over, then stopped at her. She narrowed her own as his went a little wide before looking away, walking past them all to a piece of a ruined wall.  
  
He was a mage, a strong mage, wearing black leather pants, black leather knee high boots, a black leather belted half skirt wrapped out his waist. A deep blood red top, tunic, something or other was draped around his shoulders clasped with just two bits of leather, not exactly hiding some of his pale tattooed chest much, the hood on it covered his very very black hair that she could see peaking out. Feathers and leather everywhere on him and Mari thought she was bad, when she huffed a sigh looking at Alistair's face glaring at the man.  
  
"Wha-what are they doing? Where are they g-g-going, I wondered, where do they come from? And now your h-here picking at bones," his deep voice rang out.  
  
Alistair stepped forward in-front of them all and sneered his lip up at him, "Don't answer him. He looks Chasind."  
  
"PAH, afraid barbarians are going swoop d-d-down on you? Casting our magic about?"  
  
"Yes, because swooping is bad," Alistair chuckled.  
  
Mari slammed a hand over her face and backed away from the idiot, then shook her head dropping her hand away to her side, "I'm not with him. I swear."  
  
"Yeah, I'm not with him either," Natlie grinned up at Mari standing next to her, "What's a barbarian anyway?"  
  
"I'll tell you later, if I get the chance," Mari whispered resting her hands over Natlie's shoulders.  
  
The man cocked his head at Mari and smiled slightly before looking back at Alistair. "Let m-m-me guess. Your looking for something only to find, it's not here. I, may know where they are, IF, you give m-me your names."  
  
" _DON'T_ Answer him," Alistair said again looking at them all then at the man, "You stole them, didn't you?"  
  
"A bit difficult to st-steal something that wasn't there to begin with. But, I see you b-b-boys wont play nice, what about you ladies? Women d-do not frighten so easily as little boys. Tell me your names and I, shall tell you mine."  
  
"Natlie Brosca. I like your tattoos," the dwarf grinned out.  
  
"Mari Hawke, at your service," she said dipping her head a little at him.  
  
The man dipped his head at the two woman, "Now th-th-that is more like it. I am Morgan, and I know exactly where your treaties are."  
  
"I KNEW IT!" Alistair shouted unsheathing his sword, pointing it at Morgan, "Hand them over NOW, that's Warden property!"  
  
"I will not, for t'was not I wh-who took them!" Morgan rolled his eyes and lent back on the broken column behind him.  
  
"Then who did, Morgan?" Mari asked then clamped a hand over her mouth looking at Alistair glaring at her. "What, not like you were going to bloody ask."  
  
Natlie snickered, then nodded her head, "Shes not wrong there. So yeah, what she said, Morgan."  
  
"T'was my mother. So if you do w-wa-want them back, you'll have to follow me."  
  
"Maker fucking dammit. Fine fine," Alistair groused resheathing his weapon, "Then take us. NOW!"  
  
"But, but, he will turn us into toads, cook us all in a pot! Warden, you cannot seriously think we should go with this, mage!" Jory squeaked out backing away.  
  
"If the pot is warmer then this bloody forest, I'm going," Daveth rolled his eyes at the other man, clipping his bow into his back. "And stop being a bloody baby."

* * *

  
Mari kept quiet while they walk through the wilds following Morgan. Alistair was grinding his teeth rather loudly walking behind the other man, Jory was a blubbering mess next to Daveth who was huffing. Natlie was just as quiet as she was, looking about her self with questions she wanted to ask, and Mari knew it when the dwarf kept looking up at her then back down at the ground, sighing.  
  
She's never been this deep into the wilds before, it wasn't as unnerving as she thought. Father forbade her to go deeper when she was younger, well before he died, telling her tall tales of Witches of the wilds stealing little girls. Mari never believed him in the least, but now she does when they walk through twisted trees shaped in an arch above them.  
  
A hut came into view, with an older woman standing there watching them all in deep purple and silver armour, her eyes the same colour as Morgan's gauging all of them. The woman's pure white hair was fashioned in horn's twined with the same deep purple as her cloth armour, not unlike dragon horns.  
  
"Mother, I b-b-bring you four Grey Wardens who-"  
  
"I see them boy, I'm not blind," the woman spat at Morgan, who just bowed his head a little standing behind her, "But I see five, not four, boy."  
  
Mari put up her hand stepping away from the others, "Er, not a Warden. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time."  
  
"Indeed you were," the woman grinned at her, then wrinkled her nose up looking at the other four as Mari back away more from the group. It wasn't her business to hear what was said next, she's not a Warden at any rate.  
  
But Mari could feel eyes pierce the back of her head when she turns her back on them, pulling her hair up to re-tie again. She ignored it running her hand over the shorn underside, she needs to trim it again before being assigned another scouting group. Ugh, she's getting sick and tired of it. She needed something else to sink her metaphorical teeth into.  
  
"And what of you, what do _you_ believe?"  
  
Mari turned round sharply looking at the woman, quirking her eyebrow, "All depends on what there is to believe," Mari shook her head looking at them all. "What I believe may not be what others deem... appropriate. What I see and what I know will always be different from say: Natlie or them. Though, I didn't exactly hear the original questions to give a proper answer."  
  
The woman nodded her head and grinned looking back at the rest of the group, "You heard enough, child."  
  
Mari narrowed her eyes at the woman looking over her face. She was powerful, she'll grant the woman that. She hummed with dark magic, to which Mari never saw anything wrong with, what with dad's dad being from Nevarra. Mari shook her head again turning away, looking out at the lands from the hidden hut. Her love of the macabre was definitely a Nevarra thing, she often wondered what it would be like to be a Mortalitasi, having the dead serve her in battle like grandfather-  
  
"Don't be rude boy, their your guests, show them out."  
  
"Yes mother. Follow m-m-me if you will."  
  
Mari's shoulders slumped turning around again. She didn't want to go back to be re-assigned to a new scouting group, honest to Andraste's tit's she didn't. She made her bed, now she's going to have to lay in it.  
  
Fuck it all.

* * *

* * *

* * *

**Two. The Fall.**

"Piss off, Carver!"  
  
Carver grabbed her arm and yanked her backwards, away from the Corporal handing out assignment's, "I'm fucking sick of turning around seeing you everywhere, Mari."  
  
Mari wrinkled her nose up at her older brother, pulling her arm free from him going back to the Corporal, ignoring his damn protests behind her looking at her duty assignment. Mari raises an eyebrow at the Corporal then shook her head instead of asking what the bloody hell this was.  
  
Assigned to shadow two Grey Warden's when they go about their business in the camp, on orders from Warden Commander Duncan of the Grey.  
  
The fuck is this shit? Mari shook her head more, why did she need to shadow them? Why was Duncan giving her an personal assignment and not one of his other Warden's. Oh, shit, was he testing her as an applicant to the Warden's? Maybe Alistair or Natlie told him what they saw, what they know? Mari sighed out running a hair over her loose hair, she didn't want to piss off the Warden by not doing this.  
  
Carver, was once again shouting at her when she left him to find Duncan. Andraste's fucking tit's, she really was getting sick and tired of him being there everytime SHE turned around. And he's giving her grief? _Fuck him._  
  
She made her way through the encampment to Duncan's bonfire, the man was standing there talking to Alistair and Natlie, then tilts his head up at her and nods. The other two turn around, and the smile from Natlie's face was brightening her day up when she stands next to them, "You called, Duncan."  
  
The man shook his head at her and smiled, "Indeed I did, Hawke. I would like you to accompany both Wardens when they go to light the beacon in the tower."  
  
"Er, not to be rude or anything, but," Mari looked at the other two then back at Duncan, "their the Wardens here, not me. I'm just a poxy scout."  
  
"Not any more your not. Your re-assigned to the Wardens from now on. So, please, accompany them to the tower when the battle begins. We need that beacon lit in time for Loghain and his men to flank the Darkspawn."  
  
Mari takes a few steps back, running a hand through her loose hair again. He _WAS_ testing her, Andraste's arse- "As you wish, Commander."  
  
The older man smiled and dipped his head leaving the three of them standing there in silence. Mari felt her insides bunch up thinking about this, it would be a step up from being a poxy scout, but the risk was greater then she thought when Natlie told her about Jory and Daveth dying, about the nightmares. She sucked in a deep breath and looked at the other two, Alistair, once again was eyeing her up, Natlie on the other hand was grinning up at her in her Warden blue's. She looked so cute in them as Mari grinned back at her, "So, are we just going to stand around waiting for the warnhorn to go off? Or can we eat first?."  
  
"Oh, oh, oh, here Mari," Natlie rummaged around in her pockets and pulled out some hard tack. "Tastes like boot leather, and trust me, boot leather tastes better!"  
  
"Naw, I knew I liked you, little thief," Mari chuckled at her breaking the hard tack in two, giving Natlie the other piece back, "And yeah, I know what boot leather tastes like. Not the most appetising of meals now, is it."  
  
"Where in the Makers name did you eat boot leather, Mari?" Alistair raises an eyebrow at her when they walk away from the bonfire, past Cailan and Loghain's tent's to the Warden encampment.  
  
Mari shrugged nibbling the hard tack, "Year's ago. The Hawke's are not exactly a rich family, Al. Had to scrimp and scrape, and boot leather was a meal for three nights in a row. Was either that or starve."  
  
"Sorry," Alistair muttered looking away from her. "So, um," he looked back at her and smiled softly, "what about the rest of your family? We all know about Carver."  
  
She huffs a loud laugh as Alistair waves his hand at her glowering brother looking at all three of them from outside the encampment, "Yeah well, I think EVERYONE knows about him by now. But anyway, I'm the second youngest out of four kids."  
  
They sit down at one of the empty table's, a few bowl's of ripe apples, grapes, bread and honey along with jugs of water and milk were laid out on them all in the Warden encampment. Mari put the hard tack down and grabbed an apple, then waved her hand. "Sorry, food," she grins taking a huge bite and savoured the taste before continuing to talk.  
  
"As I was saying, youngest of four. Bethany is the youngest at fourteen, I'm the second at twenty-three. Garrett is twenty-four and Carver is twenty-five. Yeah, mum and dad went at it like rabbit's when he escaped from Kirkwall years ago. Bethy was a bit of a surprise one day when mum found out she was pregnant again."  
  
"Makers balls, your all pretty close in age, except for Bethany," Alistair astonished shoving grapes in his mouth then coughed putting too many in. "Shit. Well, I'm one of two to a man who gave me up to the chantry in Redcliffe. Twenty-five," he grinned at her then frowned, "Escaped from Kirkwall? What do you mean?"  
  
Mari bit her lip looking away, resting her hand over Natlie's shoulder when the dwarf lent against her, "He escaped from the Gallows twenty-five year's ago. Ran away from the circle there to be with the woman he loved, who, at the time, was carrying his child. Carver, I mean. Me and Bethany are mages along with- Carver and Garrett are- Can we, not-"  
  
"I think I'm twenty-one," Natlie chirped up changing the subject, which Mari was thankful for. "I think. I dunno, maybe older."  
  
Alistair rolled his eyes at the dwarf then smirked at Mari tilting his head, "And no-one else in your family has such pretty eyes as your self? Just you. No-one else?"  
  
"Didn't we go over this in the wilds? I could of sworn we did," Mari narrowed her eyes at him, "Are you flirting with me?"  
  
"Is it working yet?" he smirked more.  
  
"Well, it's working for me," Natlie chuckled pretending to swoon at Alistair, leaning on Mari's arm again. "See!"  
  
"Makers breath."  
  
"Naw, Al, your going to hurt Nat's feelings flirting with me. I would say yeah, but it's not, it really isn't," Mari snickered before taking another huge bite of her apple.  
  
Alistair shrugs but still smirks at her, shoving more grapes in his mouth and once again coughed putting too many in there. Natlie giggled practically laying on Mari's lap, her hand reaching over the edge of the table to the hard tack. Mari just sighed out slightly taking another bite of her apple, she was no way interested in Alistair one bit. She's never really been that interested in people.  
  
Oh yes, there have a been a few who caught her eye and may or many not of kissed: The elf with the pretty steely eyes and long nimble fingers when he plucked his bow string she almost had a thing with.  
  
The dwarven barmaid in the local tavern in Lothering with the large bust and sweet face.  
  
Shit, there was the mage who ran away from Kinloch with flaxen hair and honey eyes grinning at her, when the Templars chased him through Redcliffe years back. Now he was cute when he stopped and said hello to her, bowing in a flourish before kissing her full on the lips.  
  
People where pretty to look at, but to actually take them to bed without knowing them? That wasn't her. She wasn't Carver who fucked anything that moved.  
  
The warhorn sounded around them sending the Warden camp into a frenzy. Alistair nodded his head to both her and Natlie rising up out of the bench, Natlie shoving apples, grapes and slices of bread in her pockets. Mari bit her lip pulling Natlie away from the table with one hand, the other reaching out to Alistair to take the stave from his. She wasn't happy to use another after loosing the one Garrett made for her years back, but this one would have to suffice when they ran to the bridge to the tower.  
  
Her heart hammered hard in her chest as more warhorns sounded out, all three of them looking over the battlement's to the killing ground below. Andraste's pearly bit's, there were so many Darkspawn pouring out from the wilds and all she could think of in that moment was: the woman and her son Morgan were living in all that down here!  
  
"We have to move," Alistair shouted above the noise, then ducked when a huge fiery boulder hit the bridge, shaking it, "Makers shit!"  
  
"We're not going to make it," Mari shouted at him as more boulder's flew over head, then one hit the top of the tower. " **OH FUCKING VOID**!" she yells pointing up at the now ruined crown of the tower of Ishall.  
  
Natlie looked up at them both then over the bridge, watching as men and women get crushed under falling debris and fiery boulders raining down on them. Mari felt her stomach bottom out more when she gritted her teeth and nodded at both of them, then ran down the steps dodging rubble and bodies littering the way.  
  
She wanted to die... right?  
  
She nearly slipped on the blood, Alistair holding her arm when they ran through the slaughter. Some of the people were still alive, burning, limbs missing, the smell of burning flesh hitting her nose. She could feel Natlie's hand holding on tight on the back of her chainmaille cuirass, she knew how the dwarf felt the closer they got to the now ruined tower. They had to climb the fucking tall building to light the fucking beacon at it's peak that was fucking missing!  
  
Mari's heart hammered even harder in her chest when Darkspawn poured down the steps to the tower, culling anything in their way. Alistair snarled his lips up and charged at them the same time as pulling his shield from his back and the sword from his hip. Natlie ran after him, unsheathing her daggers and slipped into the shadows, leaving Mari to raise her hand's above her head to call forth down lightening on the monsters.  
  
"Fuck," she mutters feeling her mana drop down quick and she's only cast one spell. " **FUCK,** " she yells when more of the Spawn pour past Alistair to get to her, she grit her teeth pushing her hand out to snap freeze them before she bought down her stave on their head's, shattering them.  
  
Mari had to be careful not to get the Spawn's blood in any wounds or nicks, or even in her mouth when she shattered more, sending frozen meat chucks exploding everywhere, she didn't want to become a ghoul before she's even proven herself! Her mana bottomed out at the wrong time when she tried to send out healing on Natlie, trying to heal the wound on her arm, and cursed fumbling around in her belt for another lyrium bottle, only to find, she had just three.  
  
Alistair took down the last Darkspawn then pointed ahead with his sword, Mari nodded pulling out a bottle, chugging half of it down before slipping it back into her pouch pocket. So many soldiers already where dead from the impromptu Spawn coming from the tower. How in the name of Andraste's quim did they get in the tower to begin with?  
  
Alistair pushed the now broken wooden door's aside, more bodies lined the way for them but Mari's mind was swimming with questions with no answer's, then tapped Alistair on his pauldron. "How in the fuck did they get in here? Before the battle as well!"  
  
"It's like they knew we were coming," Natlie muttered kicking a soldiers body with her boot, "You don't think they knew, do you?"  
  
"Maker, I don't think Darkspawn are that intelligent. I hope not," Alistair looked at the bodies laying everywhere then back at Mari, "We have to get to the beacon, no matter what."  
  
"It's a long way up," Mari swallowed following Alistair to the first set of stair's. "And a long way down if we fall."  
  
Dad would of bolstered her if he were still alive when they run up the stairs, he would of bolstered her magic, pushed her beyond her limit's when they rounded the corner to face a small group of Spawn feasting on the dead. Mari wished he were still alive to help them when she flung her hand out snap freezing them all, she wished she were a better fucking mage, when she let her healing go over the other two and felt her mana bottom out again. She hated being this useless of a mage when she downed the other half of the bottle and roughly shoved it into her pouch, then heard it break.  
  
They ran up another set of stairs, there were so fucking many to go up, and Andraste knew what the fuck was going on outside the tower. They weren't going to make it in time going up yet another set, there was no way they were when more Spawn charged at them from another floor, dead Mabari scattered on the floor. Mari's mana was tapping out time and time again the more she pushed herself, but she needed to save the last bottle of lyrium incase there was something more foul ahead.  
  
Several screams echoed above them when they went up another set of stairs, then watched as bodies were falling down from above. A loud roar echoed through her core, her heart pounded hard in her chest looking at the pale look on Alistair's face, "What was that?"  
  
"That's an ogre. Makers shit."  
  
Mari's eyes went huge looking back up, "And that's where the beacon is!"  
  
Alistair led them up slowly to the last floor, the last floor that was ruined from the fiery boulder that had something very very large walking around up there. Wasn't this what she wanted when they breached the floor? Wasn't this what she wanted to sink her teeth into looking at the huge hulking beast eating a soldier? Wasn't this what she wanted when it turned around at them dropping the body to the floor and roared at them?  
  
Alistair roared back and charged at it, his shield held out in-front of him, Natlie slipped into the shadows to skirt behind the hulking beast. Mari gripped her stave hard in her hands, she had one bottle of lyrium left, one fucking poxy bottle left when she raised her hands high above her, pulling lightening down from the clouds above. One bottle left when she pushed her hand out to freeze the beasts legs, but it didn't work when it turned it's ire out on her charging.  
  
Mari ducked out the way then rolled slamming her stave down on it's back as Alistair bashed his shield against it's legs. Natlie laughed out loud when she appeared on the beasts back, sinking her daggers in while she climbed up it to it's head. Mari flung her hand out again, coating the things face in cold to blind it and started to pant hard feeling her mana just slip away when she did it again.  
  
One bottle left when she shoved her hand into the pouch pulling it out to drink half, noting the cuts on her hand and fingers when she put the bottle back. She raised her arms again then grimaced in pain, when something hit her side sending her almost to the edge of the tower. Alistair screamed at her when she dropped onto her knees letting her stave go over the edge, feeling the pain wrack through her side, feeling the blood seep through her fingers when she looked at them.  
  
" **LIGHT THE BEACON**." Alistair yelled at Natlie when the beast fell with a huge shaking thud on the ground, his sword buried deep into the beasts head.  
  
Mari grit her teeth looking up at him when she stood holding her side, the blood pouring over her fingers. She had no idea how she got wounded when the beacon was lit, she had no idea how she got hurt when they looked over the edge.  
  
They stood and watched the battle below them, they stood and watched Loghain pull his men away from the battle. They stood and watched the soldiers and Warden alike being slaughtered in the blood soak grounds below. She heard Alistair scream out for Duncan when the man's head was severed from his body. She heard herself scream when Natlie fell on the ground, arrows protruding from her body. She screamed again when Alistair went down, arrows piercing him as well. She screams once more feeling arrows pierce her arm's and leg's, feeling them in her back.  
  
Mari turned slowly to face the Darkspawn aiming at her, she shouted flinging her hands out at them, running forward sending out as much ice and lightening as she could at them all through her pain.  
  
And then felt the ground shake again as another beast ran up the stairs at her. Her eyes go huge when it back hands her over the edge of the tower, and screamed in pain breaking all the arrows shaft's in her body going over the edge.

* * *

  
Morgan watched the fight on the ruined tower with his mother, circling over head in his hawk form. Watching the dwarf light the beacon. Watching them fell the Ogre. Watched each one fall to the Darkspawn. His heart pounded hard in his small chest, circling again when his mother swooped down to the Grey Wardens when the other woman went over the edge, only to barely hold on with one hand.  
  
He could see the fear and anger in her face, but she never let go when she hauls her self up, hauling herself over the edge and screamed at the Spawn to get away from them, pushing the last of herself in everything she had when she ran at them once more.  
  
He's never seen such an act when she fells most of them, sacrificing herself for the others when she drops to her knees only to be knocked off the edge again by the ogre. His mother grabbed the other two in her giant talons and flew away with them, leaving the other there hanging on the edge again.  
  
He had to do something, he wasn't as heartless as she was when he changed his form midway into the giant hawk, nearly taking everything he had to do so. He had to do something when the younger woman pushed away from the edge resigned to her fate when she fell from the tower. He pushed his head down, his wings tight against him trying to reach her before she hit the ground. Her eyes were closed, a smile on her face as she spread her arms out from her body, gladly accepting her death.  
  
Morgan's heart pounded even harder in his chest reaching out with his talons to grab her, and swooped in before she hit the ground. He wasn't his mother as he flaps his wings hard going back up high into the sky with the womans unconscious form in his talons, he wasn't going to let her die. He knew his mother must of had her reasons why she wasn't going to save her, but he didn't know what when he flew back to the hut, holding the woman's body gently in his talons.  
  
Morgan looked down at the battle that was nearly won by the Spawn, watching as most soldiers where pulled underground to be converted or eaten. Some of the soldiers were still fighting, still trying to hold their ground, others were running away, fleeing back to their lives and families.  
  
Life is a cruel thing yes, one he's learnt well from his mother even as a child when she used to beat it into him he was worth nothing to her as a man, that she wanted a daughter, she needed another daughter. He still doesn't know why she needed another, not like she didn't have many as it were scattered far and wide. But he was the only son she's ever borne, the only one.  
  
She may of been a cruel woman, but she taught him well when he swoops down to the hut, she taught him every variety of magic there was. But yet his life was a sheltered one when he gently drops the unconscious body onto the grass, sheltered and utterly lonely.  
  
Twenty-five years he's been under his mothers so called wing, venturing out occasionally to the small town of Lothering just to view something different then the twisted trees around him. Or his mothers scowling face when she drag's him back home by his hair, telling him love was nothing but useless when he eyed someone he found pretty, or kissed them just to feel.  
  
"Pah, I knew you would."  
  
Morgan shook his head at her when he changes back, standing to his full height looking at her, "You ju-j-just left her there, mother. Why didn't you-"  
  
"Enough blathering, boy. Now help me with them, we can't have all the Wardens dying now can we," she grins at him, pushing her white hair out of her face. "Then you can go do whatever it is you do alone, boy."  
  
"I am not a boy," he mutter under his breath at her, taking the male Wardens arms and she takes his legs into the hut.  
  
He ignores his mothers glare at him, dropping the other man on the cot then goes back outside to the dwarf Natlie's body. Her pale red hair caked in blood, arrows still stuck in her prone form, and he sighs internally looking at the other woman laying next to her.  
  
Mari Hawke.  
  
He titled his head looking her over, finding it ironic that one of his favourite forms were a hawk, along with being a wolf. Not like he didn't watch them while he was a fox when the dwarf pointed him out in the distance, asking what it was and Mari telling her.  
  
"Stop daydreaming boy and help me!"  
  
Morgan ground his teeth a little picking Natlie's prone form up, taking her into the hut to lay her on another cot. He knows mother must of had this all planned out when she forced him to make up two cot's, laying out healing treatment's and tool's to remove arrows. He narrowed his eyes a little at her when she strokes her hand down the male Warden's face, he still didn't know his name, then shook his head to go gather Mari up.  
  
He looked over her face again, sliding his hands under her unconscious form, making sure he doesn't jostle the arrow head's stuck in her body as his mother joined him to help. Only one full arrow remained embedded in her leg, but there was a huge wound on her side when he looks down at it and frowns. Someone purposely aimed at her from the ground trying to take her down, someone who obviously wanted her dead but not the others. Morgan glared at his mother when she glared back at him as they laid Mari down on his mothers bed, "What now?"  
  
"Her brother."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Are you deaf now, boy? Her own brother tried to kill her. Now stop daydreaming and help me with his armour. We need him alive just as much as the other one. But," his mother glared at him raising a clawed gauntleted hand at him, "you will not be here when I deal with them."  
  
Morgan ground his teeth again taking the other man's armour off, putting each piece down carefully before leaving his mother to do her own thing when she started to croon, her idea of singing, and left the hut. He needed to go think, he needed to go think alone when he turns in a wolf and runs off into the wilds beyond their home. Something was going on with his mother, he thinks as he runs full bore through the brushes to his favourite hiding spot, something to do with the Warden's. _But what?_  
  
A rabbit catches his scent, but he ignores it as he runs more, another rabbit catches his scent and he growls low in his throat hoping to scare them away.  
  
Morgan slows his run down to a trot when he approaches his hiding spot, and shoves his nose against one of the many trinkets he's hidden there from his mothers prying eyes. He noses the gold necklace he stole several years ago, the red and deep blue contrasted against the dark gold when he nosed it again, thinking. Another necklace made of bone laid not too far away, bone and a ravens skull. He nosed that one too, deciding which one to wear to anger his mother.  
  
He decided on both when he changed back to his human form picking them up admiring them before slipping them around his neck. A magpie, his mother called him when he was younger, a thieving magpie who needed to learn his lesson that trinkets where just that, shiny baubles of nothing. Just like love. Full of empty nothings. Everything to her was full of nothing, except old magic, except dragons and things others do not understand.  
  
_'Do not care to understand', she'd tell him,_ _'rather watch the world burn then to view it through new eyes.'_  
  
He agreed with that, the people he came across in Lothering where ignorant to everything around them, ignoring the Chasind who came through fearing they would kill them. Fearing elves and the old magic, fearing themselves.  
  
But yet-  
  
Morgan titled his head eyeing the thick leather bracelet, running his fingers over the silver buckles and smiled picking it up, slipping it onto his wrist pulling the buckle and strap tight.  
  
But yet-  
  
He laid on his back to look up at the sky, the cool breeze skimming over his almost bare chest, sending shivers down his body when it goosefleshed. And he hummed sliding a hand over his chest, down his stomach to the front of his leather pants. He hummed again slipping his eyes closed when he palmed himself, letting out a small moan, feeling his flesh prick again.  
  
But yet-  
  
Morgan sighed letting his hand slip away from him. But yet, he needed to stop before he got caught up in something he didn't know how to handle, when he sat back up and changed back into a wolf then made his way back home. She should be finished by now, and now doubt will scold him for wearing his trinkets.


	11. The Band of Blighters. (Ch Three & Pics)

**Three. Fear and Lothering...**

Mari slowly opened her eyes, then winced as bright light hit them. She breathed in deep slowly opening them again, blinking several times so her eyes would adjust to the light around her. She was most definitely not in her tent back at Ostagar. She was most definitely not laying on the ground under the tower, dead. She was laying on her back in an old wooden hut.  
  
Mari blinked several more times tilting her head to one side, two other cot's were in the room, empty. But her armour and soft under clothing were neatly piled on one of them, making Mari bolt upright looking down under the covers. Andraste's tits, she at least had other clothes on covering her modesty, when she dropped the covers away from her looking around a bit more. She swallowed looking at all the bloody arrow heads sitting atop a cloth draped over a table. She looked at each one, wondering which were in her when the door opened making her jump a little, turning to see.  
  
"Ahhh. I see your eyes have finally opened, child."  
  
Mari looked over the womans face and nodded mutely as the older woman sat on the edge of the bed.  
  
"Your friends are outside waiting for you. Though, the dimwitted one seems eager to leave," she chuckles running her clawed gauntleted finger over her chin. "Do you remember what happened child?"  
   
"Besides the fact we nearly got butchered on the fucking tower? Besides the fact Loghain," Mari spat his name like the filth he was, "quit the field? Besides the fact I nearly bled myself dry from mana so I could go on, protecting them? Besides the fact a huge fucking bird swooped down to save the other two? No, not really."  
  
The woman threw her head back and laughed loud into the room putting her hand on Mari's leg, squeezing it. "Oh I like you. If only you were mine, child," the woman hummed smiling at her.  
  
"I- um- okay," Mari ducked her head away from her and sighed, "Thank you for healing and a bed. And the clean clothing."  
  
"Indeed, child. But come along, you must dress and go see your friends. A certain dwarf is anxious to see you again."  
  
Mari bit her lip when the womans clawed gauntlet went higher up her leg to her thigh, squeezing again leaning forward to her face, making Mari's skin gooseflesh when she kissed her cheek before leaving.  
  
Andraste's fucking arse, what the hell was going on? What the hell was that about when she climbed out of the bed to her armour? She noted they were clean and mended picking up her chainmaille cuirass and greaves. She wondered if the older woman did it, or perhaps Morgan. Mari shook her head stripping out of the borrowed clothing, folding it neatly picking up her old cotton shirt and smalls, slipping them on.  
  
She looked about herself more, looking over every item in the hut, every bottle, book and herb hanging over places as she pulled her armour on. She looked a little more at the books on the shelves, noting some were in a language she couldn't read, but yet, they called to her when she ran a finger down the spine. She felt a small pull from within and took her hand away as if burnt, leaving the books on the shelves to head outside.  
  
Natlie was the first to spot her, nearly bowling her over when the dwarf flung herself at Mari grinning wide. "MARI," she squealed wrapping her arms around her shoulders pushing her face into Mari's neck, "Nugs balls, I knew you'd wake up!"  
  
"Your alive," Alistair muttered looking at her in awe and grinned just as much as Natlie when he tried to pull her in for a hug, with Nat still clinging to her. "Makers breath, I thou- we thought we lost you."  
  
"Okay, okay," Mari chuckled backing away from Alistair when he went to kiss her cheek. "I get it, I'm alive. We all are thanks to," Mari frowned putting Natlie down looking at the older woman, "I have no idea of your name."  
  
"You may call me Flemeth."  
  
Mari's heart hit hard in her chest looking the woman over. "Andraste's tits, dad was right all along," she muttered running a hand through her hair and tugged it slightly before dropping her hand, "I owe him an apology now."  
  
Alistair, she noted, stiffened reaching for his sword, "As in THE Flemeth. THE Flemeth of legend! THE witch of the wilds!"  
  
Mari glared at him knocking his hand away from his sword, making the man look back at her in shock. Then Mari felt the echo of a smite when she stepped back. "YOUR A TEMPLAR," she hissed at him backing away more, "You son of a bitch!"  
  
"Ex-Templar," he ground out looking back at Flemeth then at Morgan, who was perched above them on the hut watching everything, "never finished my vigil. Mari," he looked back at her pointing to Flemeth, "she's a damn witch. He's a damn Warlock!"  
  
"And I'm a fucking hedgemage, arsehole. Same with my dad, same with my sister. Grow up," she shook her head at him resting her hands on Natlie's shoulders. "Next your going to go all weird about Nat being a dwarf. Andraste's arse, your a Grey Warden, act like one."  
  
Natlie snickered nodding her head grinning up at Mari, "I'm not scared. Are you scared, Salroka? This is exciting!"  
  
"I'm only scared of not having enough mana, little thief, because I'm such a piss poor mage," she grinned down at her friend. "Anyway," she glared at Alistair again, "weren't you eager to get going or something or are you going to stand there like an idiot?"  
  
Flemeth stood up from her seat and titled her head at them all, then looked up at Morgan, "Get your thing's boy, your leaving with them. You've been itching for years to leave, now heres your chance. Hurry up about it, I have things to do."  
  
Mari felt a little anger go through her at Flemeth but shook her head, just reminded her of her own family when she walked out on them, or when they argued about nothing. Her fingers dug into Nat's shoulders harder then she thought, earning a small squeak from the dwarf. "Shit, sorry."  
  
"You alright, Salroka? You look like you need a drink or ten."  
  
"Yeah, I could definitely do with a few drinks," Mari chuckled tugging on Nat's hair.  
  
"So could I," Alistair muttered standing very much too closer to her then she wanted, almost feeling his breath on the back of her neck, "and food."  
  
Mari's mind wandered a little when her eyes slipped closed, trying to ignore the argument in the hut between mother and son. She wondered if Carver made it out alive, or was he butchered along with the rest of them. Not like it mattered, he made his hate known for her a long time ago when he back handed her when she was younger for touching his sword. Dad flew of the handle at that at him, calling him an ungrateful little shit and hit him back. Nobody touched his little girl, nobody, not even mother when she raised her hand at her when she did something wrong.  
  
"Can we get moving or d-d-do you have questions that, no doubt, can b-be answered when we walk."  
  
Morgan's voice startled her out of her musings, as well as Alistair's growl at them to just get moving away from here.  
  
"Thank you, for everything Flemeth," Mari dipped her head at the woman when she came back out of the hut. "May the stars guide your way and the wind be at your back."  
  
Flemeth's eyes go a little wide at her then smiled broadly dipping her head back, "Indeed they will, child. Indeed they will."  
  
Alistair and Natlie took charge leading them out, the Ex-Templar ignoring Morgan when he went to suggest something, making Mari sigh out loudly glaring daggers in the back of the man's head, when he put his hand up to shut Morgan up again.  
  
"Just speak your mind, Morgan," Natlie grinned looking over her shoulder at him, then at Mari, "Ignore the mudhumper."  
  
Mari snorted a laugh looking away from Alistair when he glared down at Nat, then burst out laughing when he glared at her over his shoulder. Morgan, on the other hand was quiet, looking down at the ground scuffing the dirt up with his boots a full pack on his back, but the weight on his shoulders were nothing to do with that.  
  
She sighed out quietly nodding her head, "Lothering's on the way. We can stop there and you Warden's do whatever you Warden's are going to do, because I have no clue right now. I need, I-" Mari wrinkled her brow up and bit her lip looking away from them all. She needed to see father again, she needed to say good bye one last time.  
  
"I can get us there quicker, if you will. T'would take several d-da-days otherwise," Morgan titled his head at Mari when she looked back at him, "Lest we all prefer to be eaten by the Spawn. Which I d-d-do not."  
  
"And do pray tell how are you going to do that, warlock? Turn into a giant bird? Oh, maybe you can ask the Darkspawn nicely not to attack us, that would be great," Alistair mocked him.  
  
Morgan huffed under his breath and shook his head, "There are other w-w-ways through the wilds, Templar. Quicker ways then traipsing around in the m-m-mud like lost nugs!"  
  
"OOoo, I like nugs, taste great cooked in their own juices. But yeah, show us the way, Morgan!"  
  
Morgan turned right sharply leading them through the brush. Mari chuckled at Nat trying to see where he went, and ended up letting the dwarf jump on her back going through the underbrush with Alistair, now staring daggers in Morgan's head.  
  
This was fun already. She can see this all turning to shit when Alistair grabbed the other man's arm to stop him, "Where are you taking us?"  
  
"A shorter route like I said, Templar. Are you d-d-deaf as well as a buffoon?"  
  
"Watch your damn tone with me, warlock. I can strike you down before you even blink," Alistair rounded on the man almost pushing his face into Morgan's hood, "don't think that I wont."  
  
"Oh for Andraste's fucking sake, just let the man do his job. Fucking hell," Mari glared at Alistair, "You sound just like Carver and that's not a pretty sound at all."  
  
Alistair growled low in his throat just as Morgan did, making Mari roll her eyes at them both. Yup this was wonderful, when Morgan yanked his arm free from the Ex-Templar and stormed off into the thicket, leaving them all to catch up with him. All Mari could see in her mind was Carver, herself and Garrett arguing about having to leave Redcliffe because of Bethy accidentally setting fire to a small copse behind their old home. Dad yelling at them all to get a move on when they had to leave in the middle of the night to go to Lothering, all because a bloody druffalo scared the living crap out baby Bethy, setting both it and the copse a lite.  
  
But at least they had meat to take with them to Lothering, already cooked.  
  
Mari chuckled to herself remembering that, earning a glare from Alistair. Mari ignored him following Morgan through the thicket. Three days, she thought looking about herself, from Flemeth's hut to Lothering, if not more, but she recognised some of her soundings already in less then one.  
  
"I know where we are," she muttered walking further ahead of them all. She stopped by the old tree were her and dad used to practice by and sighed looking at it letting Natlie down from her back, running her fingers over their names etched the deep brown bark, "Father used to tell me stories under this. Warned me about the circles, taught me how to control my magic more. Right under this tree."  
  
Mari run her fingers over their initials again and bit her lip resting her head against it. She promised herself she wouldn't cry again over him, she made herself swear on everything she wouldn't cry again, but she could feel the tears well up in her eyes as she choked back a wet sob. It still hurt, loosing him the way she did, it still hurt two years later.  
  
"Salroka, your lucky you knew yours. I dunno who mine was, probably some drunken sot fucking my mum in the back of Dusttown. Like I give a nugshit."  
  
"He was the only person I ever cared about," Mari whispered pushing back from the tree, "The only other person who didn't mind who I was."  
  
Mari stepped back from the tree more looking at the initials that would no doubt be wiped away with the oncoming horde, and walked away from them all heading back her home. If it were still there, if the others were still there, even if she wasn't welcome. She could hear Natlie and Alistair talking to her when she walked away, but she had to go home, make sure the things were still there. She had to say goodbye one last time and take what was rightfully hers.  
  
Foot falls behind her signaled the others had followed, she knew where she was going from here, pushing low hanging branches out the way, skirting around brambles. The windmill came into view, sitting ontop of the hillock over looking everything, Mari walked faster to get back home. She had too. She needed to know.  
  
"Mari wait up!" she heard Alistair shout from behind her, but she didn't when she ran over the Imperial Highway, down the steps into Lothering proper. She ran past the Templar who put his hands out when she nearly plowed into him then ran straight into someone else when her eyes blurred.  
  
"Sweet Maker- Mari?" the voice made her blink and looked at the woman almost in her lap. "It is you, I didn't recognise you for a moment. Thank the Maker!"  
  
"Sis-Sister Leliana? What are you still doing here?" Mari shook her head at the woman smiling at her when she stood up, brushing the dirt from her backside from her Chantry robes. "Shouldn't you have gone already?"  
  
"No. Though, I have news if you will," Leliana offered her hand to Mari helping her from the ground when the others caught up to her, then pulled her in for a hug to which Mari clamped her eyes shut over. Leliana ran her hands down her back, soothing her before pulling away from the embrace then watched as Leliana's eyes go wide looking at the others, "Oh, no, you can't be here Wardens," she hissed shooing them away, "Loghain has a bounty on your heads!"  
  
"What in the Makers name are you on about?" Alistair pushed past Morgan and Natlie to glare at the red haired woman still shooing them away, "What bounty?"  
  
Leliana sighed dropping her hand's to her side and looked back at Mari, "Their not here if your wondering, mon ami, but Carver did leave a message with me incase you showed up, still alive somehow." She dug round in her robe and pulled out a very sorry looking piece of paper and shoved it in Mari's hand before looking back at the others.  
  
Mari stepped away from them all unfurling the piece of paper, not listening to the words being said next to her. Her skin pricked reading the foul mouthed letter from her brother, and cursed out loud screwing it up in her hand, setting off again to her old home.  
  
Son of a fucking bitch tried to kill her on the tower! Son of a bitch was the one sending the arrow into her side, nearing knocking her off the first time! Son of a bitch would be dead if she ever saw him again, because she would rip his entire body apart with her bare hands.  
  
She pushed past people fleeing Lothering to Andraste knows where, not like she cared when she ran past the druffalo cart full of people holding each other, sobbing hard. Cry all they want, her own brother tried to kill her, she needed to get home to make sure the things were still there. She slowed her pace when a couple of Chasind where being chased out, anger rolled up in her at the fucking Templars waving their swords at the frightened Chasind, holding children in their arms.  
  
She was about to shoot her lightening at them feeling it swirl hard in her hand, when another clasped over hers stopping her in time when the Templars turned around satisfied they scared the Chasind off.  
  
"Not a w-w-wise decision to do right now, Hawke," Morgan muttered letting her hand go, "Wouldn't be wise t-t-to draw more attention then needed. The Chasind folk will be fine when they flee north. We on the other hand, w-w-wont be if you do that again."  
  
"Bollocks," she muttered narrowing her eyes at him, his hood pulled down over his face more hiding his eyes. "If I see those fucking bucket heads harassing anyone else, don't you dare stop me next time. Andraste's fucking arse."  
  
"Yes, because k-k-killing Templars where everyone can see would be a fine plan, Hawke! Don't b-be foolish!"  
  
Mari threw her hands up and stormed off to her old home, letting Morgan follow behind her. She hung her head, he was right, like dad was right, she hated Templars with every fiber of her being, especially when they abused their power to abuse other people. It would be foolish to set them twitching in-front of everyone, especially now.  
  
"Why are you following me?" she asked him when he walked beside her, "I'm only going to see if my home's still there. If, his things are still there," she whispered out.  
  
"To make sure you don't d-d-do anything foolish again. And besides, listening to that horror of a woman talk were making my ears bleed," he chuckled pushing the hood back from his face, "I-I-I did not realise you believe in the Maker."  
  
Mari scoffed shaking her head at him, "Actually, I don't. I'm not an Andrastian at all. Oh yeah I curse her name, but doesn't make me believe in a god who abandoned us twice, or a mad womans rantings that they call a chant. Anyone who does is a sodding fool. Didn't you hear what I said to your mother then?"  
  
Morgan hummed a little beside her looking out over the field's, looking over the un-harvested crops still swaying in the breeze, then he looked back at her, his yellow eyes narrowing a little from under his hood. "D-d-do you believe in the old ways then?"  
  
"Of course I do! What you take me for? Dad taught me as much as he could, grandfather was Nevarran as well. If my mana level were better, I'd probably be a Mortalitasi like he was. I see nothing wrong with any of the old ways as long as it's done right." Mari shook her head and stopped her walk to really look up at him, "This is why I'm the blackram of the family; I see nothing wrong with blood magic. This is why me and dad got on so well before Bethy showed signs being a mage. I, just never learned what he wanted me to learn, and then he died."  
  
Morgan cocked his head slightly looking over her face, Mari's skin pricked slightly truly noticing the green fleck's in his yellow eyes. Andraste's pearly tits, her inside went a little odd as he nodded his head at her, "Should we not continue to your home, b-b-before night settles in and Alistair has f-f-fit we are not back at the tavern he's setting us up in."  
  
"Bah, poxy fucking Ex-Templar," she muttered walking away, past the un-harvested crops to the home nestled out the way behind Barlin's farm. Ugh, he still had his huge spider traps all over his field's, several of them had the green fuckers trapped in them, their legs occasionally twitching. Mari rolled her eyes and flicked her wrist at them, killing them so they didn't suffer any more, earning a clucked tongue from Morgan, then he did the same with another three.  
  
The old small home came into view, the front door was still shut from this far back and Mari braced herself to find either nothing within or everything broken, because that's what Carver was like. He'd break things so no-one else could have them. Selfish fucking cunt.  
  
She tried the door when she stood in-front of it, locked, and sucked in a breath putting her hand on the lock, freezing it solid then gently kneed the door open. The door swung wide, showing her that everything was still intact, that only a few things had gone when she looked about a little.  
  
Two empty packs sat on the kitchen table along with two hunks of bread and molding cheese, as well as two canteen's and several small pouches. She carefully opened one of the pouches and sighed at the small stack of gold coins in them. They'd left in a hurry and forgot the damn coin stash.  
  
"I've been meaning to ask, Morgan," Mari pushed open the door to dad's private room and grinned seeing everything was still there too. "How long was I unconscious when I woke up in your home? And how the hell did I get there?"  
  
"Four d-d-days you were asleep from your wounds, much worse then the other two. But mother healed you. And as t-t-to how you came to be there," she heard him suck in a breath then sigh out, "I highly doubt you would believe me."  
  
Mari barked a laughed looking at her grandfathers old staff running her fingers over the small skull's dotting around the head of the staff, where another skull sat in a clawed hand, "Try me. Dad was a sucker for things people never believed in, and so am I."  
  
"I saved your life when you p-p-pushed away from the tower. You, seemed to accept your death when you fell. I've never seen anything like it before. I can shapeshift. I changed into a giant hawk t-t-to save your life where mother would not."  
  
Mari's fingers stopped twitching running over the skull and turned to face Morgan standing in the doorway, himself looking the staff over. "Your a shapeshifter? Wait, wait, wait, you saved me? You could of just let me die you know, I'm not exactly anything special. I could of been with dad."  
  
Mari turned away from him and frowned, shaking her head as she pulled back the other curtain to dads bookshelf, taking books down to find his Grimoire hidden behind them all. She smiled when she pulled the last book away, and felt Morgan walk a little closer to her from behind. "That maybe so," he muttered, "But that d-d-does not make you any less special, Hawke. Do you truly think so little of yourself that your own fa-fa-father would want you to die?"  
  
Mari gripped the heavy black and red Grimoire in her hands against her chest and lowered her head, "It's, complicated. He's dead and I'm not, and the rest of them have fucked off. I wasn't exactly welcome back when I left months ago at any rate. But anyway, I need to pack what little I have here then we can go. I wont be returning. Oh, and," Mari turned on her heal at him, "your not reading this or the other ones."  
  
"I-I-I understand. Though the staff," Morgan looked over at it, "It is a Mortalitasi staff. And, there is another one hidden in the b-b-back of that closest," he pointed.  
  
"Oh I know," Mari grinned at him putting the books down on the table. "That one's mine. Was dads old staff from along time ago, before he got taken away to Kirkwall's circle. Passed down from father to son and then to me."  
  
Morgan dipped his head at her then eyed the Mortalitasi staff again, "Perchance, if its not too b-b-bold to ask. May I, use the skulled staff? Mother refused to let me take mine."  
  
"Take it. Use it. Do what you like with it."  
  
"I- thank you," he smiled at her and Mari's heart did something utterly strange in her chest when he took it. That, was odd, she thought when he walked out the room leaving her there to open the hidden closet taking out Parthalan, feeling it hum under hands again. She ran her fingers over the blood red crystal at the top encased in twisted dragon bone, smaller crystal's hanging from the twisted cage. Deep red leather wrapped around the grip of the darkened dragon bone, going down to the bladed base. She loved this staff when she held it in her hand, picking up the books to go into the other room to her old room, it always hummed so lovingly for her.  
  
Mari put everything down on her old bed and rummaged around in her draws, pulling out the clothing she wanted and needed, pulling out the small pouches she had to leave behind sneaking into Cailan's army. She hated being half dressed, dropping everything onto the bed, she hated having to leave everything behind when she walked away from them all, resigned to her fate to die at Ostagar. Only to be saved by the man in the other room.  
  
Mari sighed when she pulled her closet door's open, looking over her long black coat, yes, she could be who ever she wants now without anyone telling her otherwise. She could be who father wanted her to be as she pulled out the long black leather coat trimmed in fur, fuck what everyone will say when they see her fully as she used to be.  
  
"So what forms can you take then, Morgan? When you shapeshift, I mean."  
  
"All d-d-depends on the mood I feel at the time," she heard him chuckle out, "But, I mostly like being a wolf. Sometimes a fox w-w-when it takes my fancy. Do you find my abilities disgusting? Most do. I lost count the amount of times I-I-I were called an abomination because of it."  
  
Mari stopped her pack packing and blinked a few times, "A fox you say? Oh you sneaky bugger, that was you wasn't it, watching us when Nat pointed you out! But no," Mari sighed resuming her packing, "I don't find it disgusting. Fascinating yes. Dad would of loved you." Mari stopped again, what the fuck made her say that out loud and shook her head, "I mean- Ugh, I have no idea what I mean."  
  
"I, could show you what I could do, but not here. Too many Templars willing t-t-to strike anyone down. Too many people on edge for me- for-" Morgan sighed out behind her again, "Are you ready to leave yet, Hawke? I believe we should."  
  
Mari nodded her head putting dad's Grimoire into the pack, then strapped it tight with everything she wanted in it. Why was it so easy to talk to Morgan when she was pissy with everyone else? Though to be honest, she thought putting her pack on her back taking Parthalan in her hands to go into the kitchen, she felt the same way with Natlie. She was so cute, and sweet, and everything was brand new for her when she looked about herself. Mari sighed looking down at the other two empty pack's, the two canteen's, the pouches full of money, and grabbed them all, shoving everything into one of the empty pack's.  
  
"I have to say goodbye to dad first," she shuffled her feet a little and slumped her shoulders, holding out the pack to Morgan, "hes out back. Andraste's arse, this fucking sucks."  
  
"Then let us be swift, please. Sorry, I-" Morgan shook his head pulling his hood over his face more, "t-t-take your time."  
  
She walked out the front door leaving it wide open, she had everything precious to her when she goes behind the wooden house to dad's place. Mari smiled at her father's small tree, his ashes under it feeding it, but it would be gone when the horde came. She felt the tears well up in her again kneeling down before it, letting Parthalan go onto the ground.  
  
"Dad, father," she whispered running her fingers over the small budding tree, "I wont be coming back for a while. Everyone else has gone because of the Darkspawn horde baring down on us. I wont be coming back to Lothering for a long time. Andraste's tit's dad, I wish you were still alive to come with me. But, looks like I'm going to be helping stop this Blight dad. Fucking hell, I made friends with the last two surviving Grey Warden's and a Warlock of the wilds! I should of listened to you when I was younger, curse me all you want, but I owe you one dad. I really do."  
  
Mari bit her lip wiping the tears from her eyes, then huffed a sigh when the wind ruffled her loose hair, "I know right. I'll take care of myself. Oh and one more thing, Carver tried to kill me, he even left a shitty note with Sister Leliana to give to me if I survived. Haunt him, huh, haunt him till the end of his days and make him suffer before I fucking get my hands on him. I love you. I miss you so much, dad. I'll see you when I pass into the beyond to be by your side again."

* * *

  
This Chantry sister was grating on his nerves when she spoke. Her shrill accent plucking at every string in him, making him want to strike her down so she would shut up.

Or perhaps a hexor two.  
  
Morgan pulled his hood over his face more walking through Lothering, trying to ignore the stares or hushed whispers behind them as they walked through. He may of found this place a curiosity growing up, coming here to steal trinkets, to view the pretty people walking about. But he found it awkward to even approach some of these people, how to talk to them with out acting the stammering warlock he was.  
  
But yet, conversing a little with Mari, it seemed easier. Though, he still found it awkward when he stuttered or hid his face because he felt embarrassed talking with her.

Though, he was surprised to learn she was interested in the old ways, that her own father tried to teach her, that her own grandfather were a death mage.  
  
He still felt awkward though, even with the odd feeling in his chest.  
  
"You don't believe in the Maker, no?"  
  
And the shrill woman is talking to him once again, "Why would I believe in a g-g-god who turned his back not once, but twice? He and his s-so called bride mean nothing to me, Chantry."  
  
"HAH, you sound like Mari. She said the same thing when she waited for her sister to finish her prayers," he watched under his hood at the red haired woman look over her shoulder at Mari and sigh out when she looked forward again, "Her own brother trying to kill her is just disgusting. I prayed for her everyday when she left. She is special to me."  
  
"In what way, Chantry, i-i-is she special to you?" Morgan grit his teeth hard fisting his hands against his body, "Or is it because she is different that you find, appealing?"  
  
Leliana raised an eyebrow at him and smiled softly, making him grit his teeth even more, "The Maker loves all his children and she is no different then you, Morgan. She is special because she is different like her father was, though it was most jarring seeing her without her usual attire."  
  
"You, knew her father?" Morgan cocked his head then shook it looking away from the woman nodding her head at him. Why was he even asking this? He shook his head and walked away from the Chantry woman to walk by himself.  
  
Morgan hummed under his breath when he reached behind his back, feeling the Mortalitasi staff under his hand, feeling the rich magic under his fingers. Oh, his mother would want it if he ever saw her again, but he would not allow her to take this gift from him. For that is what it was, a gift.

The first he has ever been given by another without stealing it from a stall or a windowsill.  
  
"Your mother is Flemeth, no?"  
  
Morgan dropped his hand to his side and fisted it again, "Why do you ask?"  
  
"I heard tale's that she had many daughter's. But yet," Leliana raised her eyebrow at him again looking over his chest and height, "you are no daughter. I did not realise she had a son."  
  
He pulled the hood over his face more and ignored her completely. He had no desire to talk to this, shrill of a woman any longer, he didn't want to answer any more of her inane needling questions about him or his mother.  
  
He could hear behind him Natlie asking Mari questions again. Asking what this was, what that was, and Mari telling her in the simplest way she could. Alistair was in-front leading them, but the mans shoulders were slumped and silent. He just wished the woman next to him would remain silent when she started talking again. Morgan huffed out in annoyance and slowed his walk down so he could walk with Mari and Natlie.  
  
"So, lemme get this straight. You don't eat Mabari or cats? Why not?"  
  
"Andraste's flaming knickers, their not like nugs, Nat. Mabari are an essential Fereldan breed! You ask any one of them behind us if they've eaten one, they'll gut you where you stand. And cats, that's just- why would I eat a cat? I love cats!"  
  
Morgan stifled a chuckle listening to both of them.  
  
"But what about those weird little things with bushy tails? Or, that thing over there," Natlie pointed over to a rat that was as large as a cat.  
  
"I've eaten rat, Nat. And let me tell you now, it's disgusting. Bushy tai- Oh you mean squirrels. Their okay eats I suppose, if your poor and can't buy meat at the butcher or your local trade runner. Rabbit isn't bad either, but I just can't stand the smell when it's being cooked."  
  
"Lamb's pretty good and so is ram, druffalo, bronto and of course nug," Alistair shouted from the front.  
  
"Too bloody right!" Natlie laughed out. "Nothing like smothered nug. Buttered nug. Roasted nug, and my all time favourite, nug served with a side of nug!"  
  
Morgan couldn't help but chuckle at Natlie's face going cross eyed thinking about it, "T'would seem our dw-dw-dwarven friend is a little obsessed with eating nug's."  
  
"Oh you have no bloody idea. May of been dirt, may of had dirt to buy more dirt, but nug's were easy pickings and sodding tasty!"  
  
Everyone started talking about food, pulling Alistair into the conversation as well. But he himself stopped talking. There was only so much he could say or do without stumbling over his words again, stuttering and being awkward, acting like the fool Templar who was glaring at him again. Morgan ignored him and the conversation, he just wanted to lay his head down somewhere and sleep.

Perhaps shift into a wolf and stalk the outer planes of Lothering like he used too and find some place to curl up.  
  
He sighed internally to himself, frowning slightly. He's never been with so many people at once, some who accepted him willingly, another who hated his mere presence. Which was no change, most people hate the fact he was a warlock of the wilds, son of the infamous Flemeth.  
  
But to be accepted? That was a new one on him.  
  
"What, the bleeding nugshit's is that?" Natlie rang out around them, pointing to the left.  
  
Morgan turned his head to see slightly, he let his jaw drop at the bronze skinned giant in a cage. Why was this creature in a cage? Why did these people have him locked up? He looked back at Alistair who was just as slack jawed as everyone else-  
  
All except Mari, who walked over to the caged giant and dipped her head at him.  
  
"Shanedan, Sten. Your still caged I see."  
  
"Shanedan, Saarabas. Yes, I am still here."  
  
Morgan titled his head as he walked over with the others to the giant, looking him over. Qunari, thats what this creature was and these filthy bastards had locked him up!  
  
"Sten, you do know the Darkspawn horde is coming right. I can get you out."  
  
The giant shook his head, his silver braids snaking across his shoulders, "And what would that serve, Saarabas? I have accepted my death, unlike the other bas here who run around like dathrasi. Why have you returned? I thought you left to die?"  
  
Mari bowed her head and sighed out loud looking up at Morgan then looked back at Sten quickly, "Besides my own brother trying to kill me, while I helped the two remaining Grey Wardens? I did, but now I'm standing here trying to bloody help you, you bloody poxy giant!"  
  
"Grey Wardens?" Sten stepped forward and held onto the bars looking over the two at the back, looking them up and down with his pale purple eyes. "I am not impressed. A dwarf and a human gasping like a fish. Saarabas, are you sure these are the Wardens? These are the ones going to stop this Blight?"  
  
Morgan hid his smirk behind his hand when Alistair balked at the Qunari glaring at him, but Natlie on the other hand put her hands on her hips and barked a laugh at the giant.  
  
"OH I like him! Can we bring him with us? And whats a saa-serr- what ever he called you, Salroka."  
  
"Saarabas, means 'dangerous thing' in Qunlat, Nat. He taught me some before I left for Ostagar," Mari grinned at Natlie. "But it's Sten's choice if he wishes to be free, not ours. He did kill an entire farmhold because they aggravated him."  
  
"It is as the Saarabas said. Though, I find myself wanting to join. Aid me Saarabas," Sten stepped back from the cage door as Mari stepped forward to freeze the lock. It snapped when Sten flicked it with his finger and stepped down and out of the cage, making everyone else step back. The giant looked down at Mari and dipped his head once at her.

"Let us be off. I do not wish to remain here with out my sword and armour much longer. And I require food and sleep."  
  
Morgan greatly approved of the Qunari Sten joining them, and smirked at Alistair's face when the giant looked down at him eyeing him once more. Why was he not surprised in the least that Mari knew him, spoke with him, learnt his words.

He was now even more curious of the odd eyed woman.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

What the 'Main' band look like. And honest to the Maker, Creators and everything, I wish there was more diversity of body shapes in DA. Because there bloody well is none. Everyones either Mr.Muscles or little Miss.Waif. It annoys the park out of me! Also, what about height? Their not all going to be exactly the same height *facepalms*

Can we PLEASE have some more bloody diversity.

**Mari Hawk** e **-** Black Hair. Heterochromatic eyes - One bright blue, one bright green. Pale skin  
**Height-** 5 foot 10 / 155cm / 1.55 meters. Shorter then her father by four inches. Carver and Garrett are taller by six inches. Bethany is the same height as Leandra, five inches shorter then Mari.  
**Build-** Plus size 16, hour Glass. Just because someones plus size doesn't make them FAT!  
**Age-** 23\. Will be 24 at the end of the blight.

 

**Morgan-** Black hair. Yellow eyes. Very pale skin, slightly freckled.  
**Height-** 6 foot 6 / 201cm / 2.01 meters. Same height as his mother without her boots on.  
**Build-** Lean, slightly defined. Running as a wolf most of the time does that.  
**Age-** Not long turned 25. Still be 25 end of blight.

 

**Natlie Brosca-** Auburn Hair. Green eyes. Ruddy skin.  
**Height-** 3 foot 4 / 103cm / 1.03 meters. Shorter then the average dwarf due to upbringing. Sister Rica is taller by four inches. Mother same height as Rica.  
**Build-** A little dumpy in body then other dwarves.  
**Age-** Is actually older then her 21 years. She's really 25, but she doesn't exactly know that yet.

 

**Alistair-** Light brown hair. Brown eyes.(Will be Blue later on!) Slightly Taned skin.  
**Height-** 5 foot 10 / 155cm / 1.55 meters. Shorter then his half brother by five inches.  
**Build-** Average bordering on muscular. He is an Ex-Templer, plate armour and the likes.  
**Age-** 25\. Will still be 25 end of blight.

 

**Vengance AKA Ven** \- Black hair. Deep blue eyes. Palish skin. Slight elven features.  
**Height** \- 6 foot 4 / 195cm / 1.95 meters. Same height as his fade brother Justice.  
**Build** \- Muscular. Same as his brother.  
**Age** \- Um... fade spirit you know. Around 36ish looking in the mortal realm.  
Vengance and Justice are virtually identical, all except hair colour. Justice's is flaxen.

 

**Theron** \- Blond hair, hazel eyes. Sun-kissed skin. Fake tattoo like Zevrans on his face.  
**Height** \- 5 foot 7 / 173cm / 1.73 meters. Average elven height.  
**Build** \- Lithe and defined. Hunting, scouting and pretending to be a Crow built him up.  
**Age** \- 18. Will be 19 end of Blight.


	12. The Band of Blighters. (Ch Four & Five)

**Four. Sweet Cinnamon Roll.**

Natlie sat between Mari's legs trying to read the book in-front of her, squinting at the words and huffed out in annoyance when she couldn't read some of them. Mari was brushing her hair before they both went to go take a 'dip' in the water.  
  
She had to ask Mari what the meant. She felt stupid being around all these people who knew things she didn't. She felt stupid trying to read a book with words that looked like squiggles. She felt stupid for not knowing how to be a Warden. All shes ever known was being a thief, a killer, dirt, and keeping her sister out of harms way. Not like that ever mattered, Rica still ended up being in the service of Beraht... much like herself.  
  
Natlie sighed out leaning back against Mari, making the other woman chuckle at her, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. Natlie really liked Mari, she was pretty and brave and smart and had the most beautiful eyes she has ever seen. Not like her own green eyes, which Mari said they where the same colour as grass in the height of summer. She even said her hair was a pretty red colour like autumn leaves.  
  
Natlie didn't think so. She felt like nugshit compared to everyone else around her. She felt small and stupid. Small, stupid and ugly. She sighed again looking over at Alistair, who was glaring at Morgan again. She, really liked the tall man. He was very handsome to look at with his light brown hair and eyes, with his muscles and nice smile. So much more different then Leske when he bent over showing his rear. Natlie giggled admiring the view when he bent over again.  
  
"Little thief? Are you giggling at Alistair's arse?"  
  
Natlie slammed a hand over her mouth, looking up at Mari and nodded. "It's a nice shape," she giggles again motioning with her hand's, "I wanna bite it."  
  
Mari kissed the top of her head, Natlie couldn't help blush out at it. She's never had such affection from someone, not even Leske when they tumbled. Not even from Rica when they were younger. Sod it all, she would say her mother, but she was a drunken nugfucker who'd beat both her and Rica just because she could.  
  
"So, you have a thing for Al, huh? Andraste's tits, go tell him."  
  
Natlie shook her head looking up at her friend, "Naw. Be a bit weird wont it? Oh hello, I want you to bang me so fucking hard I can't walk for a week! I know we've only known each other for a short while, but yeah, hammer me like a nail."  
  
Mari threw her head back and laughed so hard, Natlie's entire body shook against her. It felt nice. She also couldn't stop the laugh that was bubbling up in her either, making everyone in the camp look at them both as Mari laid back pulling her with her, laughing hard into the dark above.  
  
Mari's arms wrap around her even more when she rests her head on her stomach, wiping the tears of laughter from her face looking up at the dark above with its little light's twinkling. Alistair told her what they were when she pestered him about things. Star's, thats what they were, and two huge round rocks called moons. She squealed when she first saw them with Duncan, thinking they where going to fall out the sky to hit them.  
  
Duncan. Poor man having his head chopped off by the Darkspawn. He saved her life, he should of saved Leske's and Rica's too, but it was her life that was in more danger then their's. After the deep lords locked her up for the fucking proving's thing, proving them all wrong that dirt like her could take them all down. Things would never change there if Bhelen didn't get made king.  
  
Natlie shook her head and sat up between Mari's legs looking about herself, "We gonna take this dip?"  
  
"Sorry, of course we are. We need to bathe, and I need to get out of this chicken shit chainmaille. Not like I haven't been living in it for the past few months as it is," Mari chuckled out behind her.  
  
"What's a chicken?"  
  
"A small feathery bird that's really good eats. They lay eggs you can eat too. If and when I get to see one when we're out again, I'll show you."  
  
Natlie nodded her head, but she was still confused when she stood up brushing the dirt from her rear, watching Mari's long curvy body rise from the ground. She really was pretty. If she were shorter, she would make one sod of a dwarf being all busty and curvy like some of the noble hunters. Like her sister. Natlie frowned again taking Mari's hand going towards the water. She hoped Rica was okay with mother and Leske, she hoped her sister was full of a babe from Bhelen like she wanted.  
  
She sighed again when she looked at the dark water in-front of her, reflecting everything from above. It was pretty to look at when Mari let her hand go, very pretty, and still even with the slight wind going through her hair. She wondered how long this Blight thing will last, if they could beat it back with sticks like Alistair said. She, didn't want to die for it, but that was her fate now when she pulled her shirt over her head.  
  
Natlie still didn't know how she felt when she drank down the Spawn blood, having images in her head when she closed her eyes. Dream's, Alistair told her the night before when she woke up screaming, trying to get the images out of her head by clawing her face. Mari had to calm her down when she shook against the other woman. She knew Alistair wanted to comfort her as well, but she saw how he looked at Mari. And that upset Natlie more then anything. He liked Mari, but she wasn't interested in him at all. But Natlie was. He would never see past her stupidity, her being a dwarf, dirt beneath boot's.  
  
She pulled her pants down and ran into the water, her arms above her head then fell into it. It felt good having so much water around to wash herself clean in. She giggled madly putting her head under the water, then back up when she couldn't breath. She grinned wide at Mari on the water's edge, then blushed again when the woman took her own shirt off over her head.  
  
Natlie had to look away at Mari's body, but not before she saw her breasts and what looked like tattoos. She never saw them before, Mari never showed anyone what was under her armour, but it was-  
  
Natlie shook her head when Mari stepped into the water too, hearing her splash about before standing next to her. She felt ugly and small again next to the taller woman, she felt pitiful even being near someone like her.  
  
"Nat? What's wrong?"  
  
Natlie frowned, then felt the wet run down her face. She wiped it away with a wet hand and looked back at her friend, "Nothing, Salroka. Just, excited to be clean for the first time in a long time. And," Natlie slowly looked back at Mari looking over her arms, "I like your tattoos. Not like mine."  
  
"My dad did these for me, but its not finished. Like the- Nothing wrong with yours, Nat. I like yours too." Mari smiled at her running her fingers over Natlie's tattoo on her cheek.  
  
"I'm casteless, Salroka," she whispered dipping her forehead into the water, "I hate the one on my face. Marking me as dirt. Marking me less then trash."  
  
She heard Mari hum, and sighed when her fingers traced the one on her cheek again, "Perhaps you can make it better. Add to it, mark it as something worth wearing. I would but, I don't know how."  
  
"It's okay, I can live with it. I have done for years now, like my sister, like my drunk bitch of a mother. Like every other casteless living in dirt in Dusttown. Brand's the nobles call us, fucking brands because of what's on our faces."  
  
"Apostates are what the Chantry brand people like me, like my dad when he ran away, like Morgan. Apostates or maleficars, all because we want to live free. That's what they brand us with, Nat. I know it's not the same, but we're no more then filth to be executed by the Templars."  
  
Natlie nodded her head, she didn't know half the things Mari said, but she understood enough to know what she meant. She wasn't scared of Mari's or Morgan's magic, it was just as fascinating as the rest of the topside around her. What she was scared of was dying for something that was well over her head.  
  
She felt Mari's fingers in her hair and sighed at the feeling as soap was brushed through it to clean it free of dirt. It smelt nice when it hit her nose, she didn't know what the smell was, but it was really nice. She smiled closing her eyes already feeling better with her hair being cleaned, feeling better with her body being cleaned when she took the soap from Mari, running it over her skin.  
  
She dipped her head back in the water so Mari could get the soap out, and sighed out into the dark above, "Have you ever been in love before, Salroka?"  
  
Mari's fingers stilled in her hair, making Natlie frown out at it when Mari sucked in a shaky breath.  
  
"No," she whispered, "I, do find people pretty, but-"  
  
"What about having a quick tumble then?"  
  
"Andraste's tits, Nat. Where are we going with this?" Mari chuckled.  
  
Natlie sighed pushing away from her friend to turn round and face her, "I was hoping you could tell me what love was. I mean, I know what it is, just not, what it is. Nugshit, that didn't make any sense."  
  
"Well, dad always said, when you feel it in here," she watched Mari tap her chest, "a strong feeling that you have no words to describe, that's what love is. But, he also said not to confuse it with wanting to kill them, because it's almost the same feeling."  
  
Natlie grinned wide at her nodding her head, "Yeah. Yeah I get that. And you've never felt that part, the love part? Why?"  
  
"It's hard to explain, Nat. I'm not exactly comfortable to the idea of just falling into bed with someone before I even know them. And with the life I've had to lead," Mari bows her head, "it gets difficult to even bond with someone for very long. What I want, is someone like me I can relate too. To be free with, to be myself with. There aren't many people like that, Nat. You know how hard it is for a mage to even marry, to even be with? It's harder then you think."  
  
"Your dad did though. With your mum."  
  
Mari shrugged at her and looked over the water away from her face, "Yeah, they did. But it cost them a lot to do so. They fell in love when they first laid eyes on each other back in Kirkwall and literally fell into bed straight away, hence why Carver is twenty-five, with dad escaping Kirkwall twenty-five years ago."  
  
"Oh. But you've never felt that way? Sorry, I feel stupid even talking about this," Natlie put her hand on Mari's arm making the other woman look back at her with a sad smile on her face, "Can we get out now? I think I'm turning into a new born nug with all these wrinkles."

* * *

  
"Saarabas."  
  
Morgan wrinkled his brow up looking at Sten, who was titling his head looking down at him with his huge arms over his chest, "Yes, Sten?"  
  
"No, I'm just stating what you are. Two Saarabas in camp with no leashes. If I were in the Qun, you two would of been bound and had your mouths sewn shut."  
  
"Was that threat, Sten?" Morgan sneered up at the giant, "Or are you t-t-trying to make some sort of point?"  
  
Sten narrowed his eyes, then a small slow smile crept up the bronze skinned giant's face before he started to laugh. "If I were to make a threat, you'd be dead by now, Saarabas. No, I'm just stating a fact. But," Sten lent forward to him and grinned, "I am Vashoth, born to Tal-Vashoth parent's who taught me my own culture, my own language. Sten would of been my name under the Qun; Sten of the Beresaad. But my parent's wanted to insult the Qun by naming me Sten."  
  
Morgan cocked his head at the giant and dipped his head as he stood, "D-d-do Qunari not have horn's though? You, appear to not have any."  
  
"Ahhh. Hornless Qunari are rare, even under the Qun. I may of been the Arishok if I were in Par Vollen. But I'm not, and I care little about any of that. I am Vashoth, I will remain free of the Qun, as you will remain free from the mage-killers."  
  
Morgan dipped his head again at Sten, "Then, I thank yo-you for being Vashoth. I would rather not have m-m-my mouth sewn shut or my head severed from my neck. But, must you call me Saarabas? You call Hawke that. Is it n-n-not insulting?"  
  
Sten shook his head uncrossing his arms, "She doesn't mind it, she finds it amusing. But if you insist, I shall call you what you are, warlock."  
  
"I-I-I suppose that's a little better," Morgan muttered when Sten walked away chuckling, "better then boy."  
  
Yes he supposed it was far better then being called boy, child or abomination when Morgan looked out of his side of the camp. He put himself far enough away so he wouldn't have to talk to everyone, but close enough in-case of danger. Far enough away from Alistair who glared at him every moment he could. Bah, the man was infuriating to say the least when he ducked back under the canvas covering his bedroll and books, infuriating and made his own blood boil.  
  
Morgan rummaged around in his pack, pulling out yet another Grimoire and placed it next to his bedroll to read in the morrow. Both Warden's were still trying to decide where to go first for aid, and Natlie, the poor girl, had no idea what to do. Alistair was most useless when he kept pushing her to decide only for the dwarf to run off to find Mari.  
  
He did not relish the idea of going to this Kinloch Hold to gather the aid of the caged mages there, with it's leash holders stalking the place. He knew Mari would feel the same, but they had to at some point, whether they wanted to or not. Best to get that done first, he nodded to himself. And now he was feeling twitchy about the entire idea. He needed to go scout around the camp, and nodded his head again changing into a wolf then snuck out the back of his tent.  
  
The scent of rabbit and fennec caught his nose, but ignored them trotting around the perimeter of the camp, his ears listening to the silence around him. His nose twitched at the smell of hops, honey, apples and female, and followed the scent. They were some of his favourite smells when his nose twitched again, then sneezed at the smell of Alistair hitting it as well. Even shapeshifted, the man was infuriating, masking the wonderful scent before he could find it again.  
  
A fennec crossed his path, he growled low for it to move, making the smaller animal squeal at him before running off. He should really study that form, he should really add that to his shapeshifter repertoire along with the Mabari form. No, he didn't need any more, he had what he needed.  
  
The honey and apple scent hit his nose again making it twitch and cocked his head to the sounds by the water. He wondered who would be down there when the others were now sleeping. He crept forward slowly, keeping to the shadows, his ears listening to the quiet talking from the water. He pushed his snout through the bush covering him and cocked his head more at the two figures in the water, the hop, honey, apple and female scent coming strongly from them.  
  
Morgan cocked his head even more, sitting down on his haunches listening to Mari and Natlie talk and bathe. He shouldn't be here viewing this, but he found it hard to turn away, found it hard to not listen to the words being said, to the strong overwhelming scent that were the women bathing in the water.  
  
No, he shouldn't be here, when they both rose out the water to the bank. He turned his head away as not to look, he didn't want to see them when he backed away, sticking to the shadows again to go back to his tent.  
  
His heart pounded hard in his chest when he sped his pace to go back, he shouldn't of been nosey, he shouldn't of let his curiosity get the better of him. But the smell was divine making his mouth water at it. He didn't know which one it was but it didn't matter when he crawled into his tent, and sat there panting hard.  
  
No. It did matter when he laid down putting his head on his paws, it did matter when one of them made him more curious then he normally is.  
  
Morgan whined in his wolf form curling up into a ball, he whined into his fur, letting the words Mari and Natlie spoke go round in his head. He only caught the tail end of the conversation between both women, but he understood when he whined again in his fur pushing his nose further into it.  
  
He never truly understood the concept of love, what with his mother telling him it was meant to mean nothing, meant to be nothing but a falsehood. But why? Why was it a falsehood? He had little purpose other then an annoyance to his mother for being born a male, a boy, a thing she couldn't use.  
  
Morgan whined softly again, letting the world fade around him when sleep took him to the fade. Perhaps there, he might find solace.

* * *

  
"I say we go to bloody Kinloch, Natlie. We _NEED_ the mages!"  
  
Morgan yawned stretching his arms over his head when he left his tent bare foot to break his fast, Alistair's loud voice waking him up from his restless slumber.  
  
"And I say we ask everyone else when they get up, Al! Nugs balls, stop pushing this shit on me!"  
  
"Your as much of a Warden as I am, Nat. Makers breath, we need to fucking decide where we go first."  
  
Morgan sighed pulling his hood over his head, walking slowly over the bickering pair. Everyone else were indeed either still asleep or grinding their teeth behind canvas wall's as the pair's voices started to rise over each other.  
  
"STOP IT! JUST BLOODY STOP IT!" Natlie shouted at the Ex-Templar flinging her hands up in the air when she stood up sharply. "I'm dirt, you fucking nug shit. I don't know shit up here! Point at someone who needs shanking and I'll do it. Point at a Duster who owes you money and I'll get it. But this shit, I DONT KNOW FUCK ABOUT ALISTAIR!"  
  
"THEN I SAY WE GO GET THE FUCKING MAGES!" Alistair glared down at the dwarf knocking everything off the tree stump with his boot before storming off.  
  
Morgan shook his head when Natlie slumped down on to the ground, putting her head in her hands. He wondered where Mari was when he got closer to the cooking pot full of, ugh, porridge, and ladled two wooden bowls full for himself and Natlie sitting there sobbing. He wondered where she was when he walked over slowly to the sobbing dwarf, putting one of the bowls down in-front of her before sitting next to her. He would comfort Nat, but he had no idea how to when she looked up at him and smiled a watery smile, mouthing a thank you to him when she picked up the bowl.  
  
"T'would seem our resident Templar is b-b-being a typical bully, Natlie. Should you not both decide together where t-t-to divide your attentions?"  
  
"Probably. I know shit up here. I know you and Mari don't wanna go to this circle place. I don't wanna go as well now," she shrugged at him wiping her eyes on her sleeve, "may as well go get it done, huh."  
  
Morgan hummed a little then winced at the taste of the porridge putting the bowl down, "Do no-not let him bully you. Templars will always get their own way. But I d-d-do agree, in that- we should- we perhaps," Morgan clamped his eyes shut at the stammering again and swallowed before continuing. "We should g-g-get this over and done with first."  
  
"Yeah I know. But I wish mudhumper didn't fucking push it on me. Reminds me too much of Beraht," Natlie mumbles around her spoon, then pulls the spoon out spitting the porridge back into the bowl, "and this tastes like shit!"  
  
Morgan nodded his head pushing his own bowl well away from him, then felt Natlie's hand knock against his arm. "Here, I got those apple things from Ostagar, and I stole a few bits of cheese and dried meat from Lothering."  
  
"Ever the thief," he chuckled softly at her, taking the few pieces of food from her hands. "Thank you."  
  
Morgan hummed again taking a bite of the apple, thinking about the night before with the strong overwhelming scent of honey and apples and ducked his head, pulling his hood over his face more when he panted. Natlie was too busy eating and gathering the knocked over item's to notice the heat going over his cheeks, when he bit into the apple again. He wanted to change back into the wolf and slink off to hide. He wanted to whine into his fur again. He wanted... something.  
  
"Makers breath, Mari? Holy- um- well then."  
  
"Oh Alistair, stop staring. You never seen a woman with tattoos or piercings before, no?"  
  
Morgan frowned looking over his shoulder at Leliana and Alistair talking behind them- And dropped the food from his hands into his lap at Mari standing outside her tent, looking far different then before glaring at Alistair.  
  
She had her hair tied up high on her head showing the shorn underside. Silver hoops and studs adorned her ears and face. Tattoos went down and over her arms, wearing a black vest that revealed some of her cleavage, to which Alistair was gaping at. Black half pants that barely touched her calf high silver buckled black boots, to which he could see tattoos going down her calves as well. All of it was only accentuating her already curvy frame, more then the chainmaille ever could.  
  
"Oh nugspit, wow. Why can't I look like that?" Natlie gaped next to him at Mari also.  
  
Morgan looked away taking another bite of his apple when Mari walked over to them. She, was beautiful. Her pale skin just darker then his own, made him pant out again taking another bite of his apple when she sat down in-front of them. It was like viewing her for the first time again, when he flicked his eyes up briefly before dipping them back down.  
  
"Stop bloody staring, Templar. Andrastes arse, am I going to have to stand back up and hit you something stupid."  
  
"Ahh Mari, there's your bite. I wondered where you left it along with your pretty things, mon ami," Leliana chuckled sitting down next to her, making Morgan almost growl out when she brushed Mari's arm with her fingers. "You look much like yourself now, no."  
  
Mari grinned at Leliana nodding her head, "You know, I felt far too bloody naked at Ostagar with out all this on, Lee. Hated leaving it behind."  
  
"Mmm hmm. You look much like yourself now. A shame Malcolm never finished his work on you. He was a good man Mari," Leliana ran her fingers down Mari's arm again and Morgan did growl out loud at that.  
  
"Nah ah, Morgan, there will be no growling or snarling at my dear ami," Leliana scolded him. "Behave yourself. And that goes for you too Alistair."  
  
Morgan covered his face back up again looking down at the food in his lap, running his fingers of the small bits of cheese. "I- I- I- I was not- I did not-" he shook his head picking the food up, taking it with him when he stood to go back to his tent to be alone, practically running away.  
  
He bit his lip hard dropping the food onto his bedroll as soon as he got to his tent, feeling blood well up from under his bite when he licked away the sting. He's never seen anyone else with arcanum etched on skin like she had over hers, unfinished. Like his own on his chest, back and legs, around his arm hidden under the leather. Morgan bit his lip hard again when he lent his arm on the tree bracing his tent. Her own father did that, Malcolm Hawke, her own father started to etch the arcanum onto her skin but never finished it. He died before he could.  
  
He, if she would allow him too, he could finish it for her. Though he would need the book or Grimoire the symbols came from to even begin to finish it. Morgan bit his lip even harder resting his head on his arm, feeling the trickle go down his chin and licked the blood away nearly moaning out loud at the coppery taste. He wanted to palm himself hard tasting the blood but it would do no good to go into that.  
  
He was just as confused now, just as he was back at his mother hut.  
  
Morgan breathed out slowly, opening his eyes to gather his things so they could go to Kinloch, go to the mage prison. A place, he was not looking forward to venturing through.

* * *

  
Alistair, just, could not stop staring at Mari's backside as they walked over the well worn dirt road. It was a perfect peach shape the more he looked at it. Maker did he want to take a bite out of it, taste it under his tongue to see just how juicy it was. He wanted to trace every inch of her curvaceous body with his tongue, her thick thighs, her dipped in waist, her broad hips and shoulders. Oh yes, he wanted to run his tongue over everything.  
  
He licked his lips again, imagining Mari bent over with his hands tangled in her raven black hair, fucking her hard from behind, making her beg and pant out his name. Makers fucking breath, he could feel himself get hard in his armour thinking about it the more they walked.  
  
But then again, he looked over Natlie's stocky body, and admired that one too in her Warden armour. Her rounded backside aching to be fucked as well. 'Well', Alistair thought smirking to himself, 'maybe he could get both into bed'. Wouldn't be the first time taking two in his bed, men, women, all we're perfectly fine in his opinion, as long as they wanted it.  
  
"How much further, Saarabas? I still feel too naked without my armour and sword."  
  
Alistair rolled his eyes at Sten, the bronze skinned giant was still in the tattered prisoner clothing, but he was right they did need to get him new armour and a weapon to wield.  
  
"Theres the Bannorn of Stornaway, a small village where we can get supplies from less then a day away now. Not to far from," Alistair watched Mari's shoulders slump a little, "Kinloch's dock's."  
  
"We can get rooms there in the local tavern," Alistair piped up walking ahead of them, "be better then camping at any rate. And better food."  
  
"Who was the nughumper who made porridge then? You were! Al, it was disgusting."  
  
"I never claimed to know how to fucking cook, Nat. Told you I couldn't but noooo, no-one listened to me," Alistair rolled his eyes and huffed walking further ahead.  
  
His stomach growled loud thinking about proper food, and a proper bed he hasn't slept in in months. As long as the room would be well away from the fucking warlock walking behind him. He could feel Morgan's eyes bore into the back of his head, feel those fucking yellow eyes of his practically flaying his flesh the more he walked.  
  
Fuck the man. He hated him the moment he laid his eyes on him in the ruined tower. Hated every inch of the taller man then himself. His fucking pale skin making his own skin crawl with his filthy fucking swamp magic. Alistair knew it was dark magic, blood and dark magic the damn warlock used. Could practically taste it on his tongue. It made him sick to think this freak was following them, to help them in the Blight.  
  
This fucking wilder, with his swamp magic and his ridiculous clothing he wore. It made him sick, he made him sick, everything about him made his blood boil in his veins. Oh, but he saw how he looked at Mari, how he looked at Natlie, how he looked at them all, gauging each and everyone one of them from under his fucking hood. The man could hardly be bothered to pull it back so they could see him properly. Hiding behind it like the maleficar he was. Hiding his Maker taken secrets from them. It made him sick.  
  
Alistair wished the other man would crawl into a bush and die a painful death like the freak he-  
  
"So Mari," Alistair cleared his throat before continuing, "How'd you know about half the places in Fereldan?"  
  
"We moved around a lot when we were growing up. Lothering was the longest we stayed in one place."  
  
Alistair frowned but kept on walking, "Why? I mean, I've only ever really lived in two places, Redcliffe and Kinloch. Okay three, if you count Ostagar for a few months."  
  
He heard Mari sigh out behind him, he had to look over his shoulder then noted the angry look in her face and frowned even more at it when she glared at him.  
  
"Are you fucking touched in the head or something? I'm a mage, if you hadn't noticed! We had to move because of the Templars. Because of me, dad and Bethy being mages, you dumb son of a bitch. Andraste's arse, I can't believe you have to ask why!"  
  
Alistair stopped walking making Sten bump into the back of him before he turned around to face Mari's angry face, "I'm not fucking stupid, Mari. I do know what Templars are like. Like _HELLO!_ " he waves to himself, "I was one once. I still don't get why you had to move s-"  
  
"No, I'm done listening to your idiocy, Al. Figure it out, then come back and talk to me," and with that Mari stormed of ahead with Natlie's hand held tight in hers.  
  
"T'would seem your are m-m-more of a buffoon then I thought you were, Templar," Morgan smirked at him from under his hood, walking swiftly past him to catch the other two up.  
  
Leliana had her eyes wide at him shaking her head, "Sacré bleu, I thought you wiser Alistair!"  
  
"What the fuck did I do?" he whined when everyone walked away from him following Mari and Natlie up the dirt road. He frowned even harder glaring at them all as he ran to catch them up, the Qunari rolled his eyes at him when he looked up at him and shrugged, "I'm not stupid."  
  
"No, but you are a buffoon. Isn't obvious why she had to move often? I thought Wardens were more intelligent, or did they scrape you from the bottom of the barrel?"  
  
Alistair grabbed the Qunari's arm hard, pulling him to a stop. "Watch your damn tone. I was recruited before I finished my vigil. I was recruited because-" he shook his head and let Sten's arm go, "Never mind."  
  
Sten shrugged one shoulder and set off again, leaving Alistair standing there alone, running a hand through his light brown hair. He shook his head again walking slowly, thinking about what Mari said. She was an apostate yes, so were her sister and father. They had to move a lot because they were mages, to kee-  
  
Alistair groaned now feeling utterl,y utterly, stupid. "You had to keep out the watchful eye of the Templars, so none of you got taken to the circle," he shouted out, "Makers fucking breath, Mari, I'm sorry."  
  
He groaned again setting off to catch them all up, the slow clap from Leliana and Morgan made him huff out in annoyance, but he let it roll over him when he took the lead again. This, was going to be a very long Blight if he kept being the idiot.  
  
A very long Blight indeed.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

**Five. Circle Of Dread.**

Sten huffed out a laugh next to Mari, knocking her shoulder with his hand, "It looks like an erect penis, Saarabas," he chuckled.  
  
"Andraste's arse Sten!"  
  
"It's true though! It looks like a very large erect penis in the middle of the water. Why the mages needed to be locked up in that phallic thing, I have no idea," Sten laughed even more.  
  
Mari blushed deep red looking at Kinloch, not like shes never seen an erect penis before, but thats all she could see looking at the tower. She knows what hes trying to do, but it's not working as they sat out side the tavern with mugs of ale. She blushed even more looking away from it to the bottom of her mug, she really had only ever seen one penis in her life, and even then she just stared at it when she was supposed to do something with it.  
  
Mari shook her head, it was at that point in her life that she realised she couldn't just fall into bed with just anyone. She felt a little something for the elf, but not enough to actually go through with being in bed with him. They stayed friends after that, neither of them wanted that kind of relationship, but he was bloody pretty with his steely eyes. She wanted forever, not a fleeting thing.  
  
"Drink Saarabas, the ale wont give you words of wisdom unless you drink heartily," Sten laughed next to her, knocking her arm again.  
  
Mari shrugged her shoulders and downed the rest of her drink before the Qunari refilled it from the jug, "The only words of wisdom I have right now is: Thanks for putting that image in my fucking head. You do know thats all I'm going to see everytime I look at it, right!"  
  
"EXACTLY! That way it takes the sting away. Just be thankful you were not locked up in that cage, kadan. I have a _LOT_ of drinking to do to make up for it."  
  
Mari nodded her head and smiled at him, "Okay, okay, I get it. You know it's funny. All my life I've avoided the circle, keeping away from Templars and now here I sit, on the other side of the lake, going to heading there of my own free will. Andraste's fiery farts, I can't believe I'm actually going to be going in there tomorrow."  
  
Sten nodded his head at her, knocking her arm again, "Mmm Hmm, time to face your fears. Time to face those mage-killers with a brave face and head held high. Don't let them get to you, don't let the circular walls get to you. We need your fellow mages help, and we will get it."  
  
Mari hummed under her breath looking down into her full mug of ale, the Qunari knocking her shoulder again as he left for bed, leaving her alone in the dark with her thought's. Well, not exactly dark, what with the one torch lit above the tavern door sending out very little light around her.  
  
What would father think of her actually voluntarily going into the circle to get help from the other mages? After allthe years he told her to stay away from them, not to even think about them, never to let the Templars take her to one of them, to kill herself first if that ever happened. The horror stories he told her were the stuff of nightmares, what he went through for fifteen years, what others went through living behind those walls. What happened to him two-  
  
Mari shook her head and downed the entire mug of ale in one go, making her head swim a little. She wasn't drunk enough for this shit when she pulled the jug over, looked in it, then just drank from the jug. She was no-where near enough drunk enough for this, when she stood up from the treestump chair around the sorry looking table, to walk down to the waters edge.  
  
Yup, she was not drunk enough for this when she glared at the phallic tower staring back at her, so she stuck her fingers up throwing the now empty jug into the water at it.  
  
Andraste's arse, facing her fear was not this. Facing her fear would be setting the entire Templar order on fire while she danced naked on their ashes, now THAT was facing her fears. Mari snorted out loud at the idea, she would never dance naked on Templar ashes, she wouldn't want their filth on her skin at all. But dancing naked under the moonlight on the other hand, THAT she could do, if she were alone and didn't feel like someone or something was watching her from the bushes.  
  
Mari wrinkled her nose up and turned round sharply, nearly falling over with the ale swimming around in her head, and giggled pointing at the bush. "Who ever you are, what ever you are, I'll set my Qunari on ya! Don't think he wont piss you out."  
  
She blinked her eyes a few times at the pair of yellow eyes slowly coming out of the bush, she stepped back as a huge hulking black wolf crept out with it's head bowed a little.  
  
"Holy fuck!" she squeaked stumbling backwards, putting her hands up at the huge black wolf. "Um, yeah go- go away. Shoo. I don't wanna kill you. Andraste's fucking tits!"  
  
The wolf cocked its head a little at her and whined slightly, sitting down on its haunches with its head still bowed down. Mari stepped back again watching the hulking wolf slump down on its front paws, whining again looking away from her.  
  
She blinked her eyes, rubbing them with the heels of her hands to make sure she was actually seeing this fucking huge wolf whining, just, laying their not doing a poxy thing. She swallowed loudly looking the wolf over, it wasn't attacking, it wasn't growling or snarling, it, looked sad. Like really really sad.  
  
"Okay, well," Mari spoke softly as not to frighten the wolf still not looking at her, "this is different. Andraste's arse, I'm not sober enough for this now. First I wasn't drunk enough now I'm not sober enough. Fuck me."  
  
The wolf shifted its head on its paws tilting its head, and whined softly at her. The fucking hulking wolf whined... at her!  
  
Mari blinked a few times again raising both eyebrows at it, "So, your a friendly wolf? You," Mari stepped forward a little, "hurt?"  
  
The wolf lifted its head up more cocking it when she steps forward again, its nose twitching, smelling her when she stepped forward again with her hand out in a peaceful gesture. Shes lost her damn mind when she kneels down several feet away from it, her hand still out. "I must smell kinda nice then?"  
  
The wolf softly boofed at her.  
  
"I take that as a yes then," she smiled out. "What are you doing out here? Wolves don't come this far up. Well, not ones your size. Okay, never ones your size, your huge!"  
  
The wolf laid down on its side relaxed as it looked at her from the ground, it's huge maw open showing her the numerous amount of sharp teeth. Wolves never submit to anyone, would rather tear you apart, but there was something about this wolf with she looked at it more, the yellow eyes flecked with-  
  
Mari's mouth fell open, "Morgan? Is- is that you!"  
  
The wolf whined louder this time, sitting back up on its haunches but still had its head lowered at her.  
  
"Wow," she whispered putting her hand out to him, "that's so cool. I know you said you like being a wolf, didn't expect it to be this big. Why were you sneaking around?"  
  
Morgan stood back up and slowly made his way over to her, his head still bowed, then slumped down on the ground, his head resting on her thighs, whining slightly looking over at the tower in the lake.  
  
"Yeah, I know how you feel," she whispered gently running her fingers down Morgan's head and ears, making him twitch at the contact, "why I'm not drunk enough for this shit. Ahh, you saw me throw the jug in the water didn't you."  
  
Morgan boofed quietly on her thigh making her cover her face up with her other hand, "Well, shit. Don't tell the innkeeper, please."  
  
Mari sighed out looking down at Morgan's huge fucking wolf head on her thighs, feeling her heart and insides do the weird odd thing it did before. She frowned a little looking him over in his wolf form, admiring it, trying to ignore the odd weird feeling tugging at her. Andraste's grace did his magic hum under her hands, when she ran his fingers gently over his exceptionally soft fur, from his head down his back as far as she could reach and back up again.  
  
Morgan lifted his head up from her thighs and whined again, nudging her hand with his wet nose when she stopped. She smiled softly running her fingers through his fur more, closing her eyes at the soft feeling under her hands, his head resting gently on her shoulder now. Her heart may be pounding hard in her chest, but Andraste's fucking tit's, it felt really good when she put both hands through his fur, feeling it and his magic against her hands.  
  
"I wish I could do this," she whispered to him, "change my form so I can hide away sometimes. I just don't have enough mana to do so."  
  
Morgan began to pant heavily with his head on her shoulder, his entire body shaking against hers. Then he pulled away quickly backing away from her. His head was even lower when he turned tail and ran away into the bushes, leaving Mari sitting there wondering what she did wrong.

* * *

  
Mari couldn't stop shaking standing next to Sten, his huge hand on her shoulder trying to calm her down, stopping her from lashing out at the Knight-Commander in-front of them. She felt sick to her core looking at him. He hasn't changed one bit as he stood there ordering the other Templars to keep the huge stone door shut.  
  
The Knight-Commander turned back to look at them all, Mari shook even more when he glared at Alistair.  
  
"Hmmph, I thought we got rid of you. Why are you back back here Warden? Didn't you do enough damage the first time?"  
  
"I'm glad my friend got away from you," Alistair hissed at the grey haired man, "I'm glad he ran away. But I'm not here for that, I'm here for the mages and their aid."  
  
Mari frowned at Alistair, his friend? What friend? Mari fisted her hands against her side when Lee joined Sten trying to calm her down. Morgan was behind them with his hood pulled fully down over his face to hide it from the Templars around them.  
  
"If you hadn't notice, Warden," the grey haired man spat at Alistair, "but the doors are shut. No-one enters and no-one leaves. There's nothing but blood mages and abomination's running around in there. So what ever aid you want, your not getting it."  
  
"What in the Makers name happened?" Alistair asked.  
  
"We don't know. When the first demon appeared, when the first Templar fell against blood magic, we shut the door. What you see here is all thats left of your precious brothers and sisters you left behind, Warden!"  
  
"So you shut the door and left all the people behind it to, what, die?" Natlie piped up glaring up at the Knight-Commander, "Nugs balls, even Dusters ain't that fucking sick!"  
  
"We have to help them, no? There have to be mages still alive, there have to be others scared and frightened," Leliana muttered still gripping Mari's shoulder hard.  
  
Mari wrinkled her nose up trying to pull free from both of them to get at the grey haired man. Her anger boiled up in her as she screamed at him when he looked her dead in the eyes, then sneered at her standing there.  
  
"YOU!" he shouted drawing his sword from his sheath. "Take her into custody!"  
  
"Like fuck you will, Greagoir. She's with us, shes part of the Grey Wardens you fucking son of a bitch," Alistair growled pulling his own weapon free to stand in-front of her. "You can't lay a damn finger on her. Understand!"  
  
"Considering what her father was," Greagoir spat pointing his sword straight at her, "she should be struck down as well, same with the one in the back. Don't think I can't tell your another apostate! And I thought you were a Templar, Alistair. Did the Warden's make you soft, boy? Or was it Jowan when you set him loose out there. Or maybe your brother."  
  
"Fuck. You!"  
  
Mari struggled against her bonds with Sten holding her against his chest, when he turned and walked away with her kicking and screaming at the Knight-Commander now behind her. She can hear Sten whispering into her ear trying to calm her down, but blood rushed through it drowning everything else out. Her heart hammered hard in her chest when she started to cry with her head resting back on his huge shoulder.  
  
She promised dad she would kill the man who struck him down. Who severed his head from his body protecting his own child from them. She promised she would kill him, but right now, she was being denied that privilege by Sten, who pinned her against the wall so she didn't break free.  
  
She wanted to lash out with her pitiful magic, she wanted to lash out at everyone as tears streamed down her face, sobbing hard with her face tilted up at the ceiling.  
  
"T'would it not b-b-be simpler for her to have her vengeance, Sten?" she heard Morgan mutter next to them, "kill th-them all and be done with it?"  
  
"Parshaara! I'm sorry Kadan, I really am. But we cannot do this right now."  
  
Mari choked back more sobs, nodding her head on Sten's shoulder. He called her Kadan and not Saarabas. He knows how she feels when he lets her go, running his hand over her hair when she lent her head against the cold stone wall.  
  
"Mon ami, we're being let through the door. Alistair is just as angry hearing about this. Come, we have mages to save," Lee put her hand on her shoulder pulling her away from the wall, "we need to find the First Enchanter as well. Come."  
  
Mari couldn't speak being led through the huge stone doors that kept everyone from fleeing. Kept anyone else from helping, except for themselves. She clamped her eyes tight when the door slammed shut behind them, the smell of blood and effluvia hitting her nose. Strong tugs of stray magic danced over her skin when she put both her hands on the nearest wall and threw  
up on the floor.  
  
She feels Lee running her hands up and down her back, moving her hair out the way when she threw up more, "Let it out, mon ami. I have some Elfroot to ease the pain."  
  
Mari nodded her head panting against the wall, taking the Elfroot potion from Lee's hands. Her legs felt weak, her entire body felt weak when she pushed away from the wall with her head hung low. She felt weak and terrified when she downed the entire bottle, letting the empty thing fall from her hands, letting it smash on the stone. She should of said no, she should of stayed in the tavern when they started to walk down the curved stone hallway.  
  
They passed body after body as they walked, bodies of both mages and Templars alike lining the hallway, all of them trying to flee only to find the doors where shut. Mari felt even more sick looking at it all, the bloody hand prints and smears on the walls and floors. Half torn robes and limbs, broken staffs, swords and melted shields and armour scattered everywhere.  
  
Alistair stops them all when the come to a room full of children and tranquil. An elderly mage raised her staff over her head and bought it down hard onto the ground, sending out a huge wave of cold at the rage demon trying to attack them. Mari automatically put her own hand out sending her own cold to help, making the elderly mage turn around when the rage demon exploded everywhere.  
  
The white haired woman blinks a few times at her, then the rest of them standing there lowering her staff, "Who are you? How did you- Alistair? Oh Alistair, thank the Maker your alive!"  
  
"Wynne," Alistair runs over to her bringing her into a hug, making Mari shake her head at it hiding behind Sten. She looked at them both when they parted, both of them smiling at each other, both of them looking the other over in amazement.  
  
"Makers breath. I thought I lost both of you at Ostagar," Alistair brought the woman back in for a hug, "What happened here?"  
  
"Uldred, thats what happened," Wynne spat pulling away, "When we came back he started this- this butchery! We have no idea how many remain beyond my barrier, Alistair. Me and Eadric saved as many children and tranquil as we could."  
  
"Makers shit, Wynne. What about Irving? Is he still alive? What about Anders?"  
  
Wynne shook her head wiping her face, "I have no idea. We've been stuck here for days, while Uldred and his filth rip this place apart. All because he wants to break free from the chantry."  
  
Mari felt the tug of ugly magic go over her again and sucked in a deep breath at it. It felt nothing like dads magic, this was disgusting when it tugged at her again. It felt nothing like grandfathers when she took Parthalan from Sten when he handed it to her. She gripped her staff tight in her hands, first the Knight-Commander, and now this, this ugliness around them? She wondered what other horrors laid ahead of them when the older woman Wynne took the barrier down.  
  
"I will remain here," Sten nodded his head at them all, taking his sword from his back to rest on, "I will protect those who cannot protect themselves."  
  
"As will I," Leliana smiled at them. "I have stories and songs I can tell to keep them calm."  
  
Mari smiled at them both in thanks and followed the others through the door to beyond. She put her hand into her pouch and groaned under her breath. Once again she had only three vials of lyrium to get her through all this. Fucking damn it all.  
  
She gripped Parthalan tight in her hands again as Morgan untied the Mortalitasi staff from his back, the skulls shimmering a little to his touch. Parthalan hummed under her fingers, the blood red crystal's giving off a little glow when she swings out at an abomination coming at them. Her magic going through the staff into the once mage before her, then grimaced feeling her mana dip down as it sucked her almost dry.  
  
She pushed the bladed end into its head and sent cold snapping down it then swore out loud when her mana was depleted in just two spells. Fuck it all, she wished dad finished his tattoos on her skin, finished the scarification as well. It would of helped her immensely when she stuck her hand in her pouch to pull out a lyrium vial, to drink down half of it before she would continue with the others.  
  
"D-do not push yourself, Hawke. Save your mana. I can deal with the magic p-p-part, along with the old woman."  
  
Mari felt shame go through her when she nodded mutely at him, putting the vial back into her pouch. She was no mage at this point, she was no better then being the fucking scout again as more abomination's and demons came at them.  
  
Morgan pushed his staff out, the skulls glowing as he cast hexes on them all, keeping them in place with a paralysis rune when he slammed the staff onto the ground. Mari watched him out the corner of her eye when she swung out with Parthalan's blade, slicing down the stomach of the former mage, then dodged out the way of another when it swiped at her.  
  
"Does anyone have any lyrium potions?" Wynne shouted when she slammed her own staff down sending out spirit bolts from it and Mari took hers out of her pouch, running over to the woman then ducked as a rage tried to take her head off.  
  
"Dog shit," Mari muttered thrusting the potions into the womans hand before rolling away, hitting the rage demon across it's back, its lava blood splattering everywhere.  
  
"Language young lady," Wynne chuckled snap freezing the rage so Mari could smash it to bits, "As bad as Alistair."  
  
Alistair barked out a laugh going up a set up steps and pushed the door open for them all to follow. Mari shook her head softly still unable to speak properly. Anger and disgust still rolled around in her core, anger, disgust and shame.  
  
The veil going up the winding stairs was getting thinner, the air was dipping a little colder the higher they went, but there were many more floors to go. She wondered how bad it was up there, for the veil to be as thin as it was down here already. How bad the ugly blood magic had to be to do all this. Father would of had a fit seeing all the dead mages, some of them bled dry around them. He would never of done this, neither would of grandfather.  
  
Natlie was just as quiet as both her and Morgan were, looking about themselves, pushing door open to see if any were still alive, or anything foul hidden away.  
  
Skeletons weren't foul when they charged though a broken door at them, they were easy to dispatch when a few swings from her staff and Alistair's shield bashing their heads off. Infact, it was a little comical when one of them ran around in circles with its hands over its head, flailing, before Natlie tripped it with her foot.  
  
"Was that supposed to be scary? I saw worse in Dusttown," she giggled out at her.  
  
Mari tugged Nat's hair walking down the hallway, her friend still chucking. But Mari still didn't feel like speaking when they pushed open a door to what looked like a library, floor to ceiling full of books, most had been destroyed by the filth here. Her heart sank a little when she bent down to look at one, a picture of a cat with wings looked back at her, with the words 'Ser Pounce-A-Lot' written next to it. Mari decided to take that book with her, it was about spirit healers, something she didn't know much about.  
  
She would read it if and when they got out of here.  
  
"Why that book, Hawke?" Morgan asked her when she took her pack from her back to put it in, "surely there must b-b-be others around worth taking."  
  
"It had a cat drawn in it, with wings eating a Templar. A cat named Ser Pounce-A-Lot. Plus, I don't know much about spirit healers, dad-" Mari bit the inside of her cheek to stop talking and sighed when she stood.  
  
Morgan smiled softly under his hood at her, she couldn't see his eyes at all in here with how far down he had it. Mari wanted to ask him why he ran away the night before, but thought against it when he turned around going out the library door to follow the others. Natlie took her hand and smiled up at her, both of them leaving together following the others to another room, where a table sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by books and papers scattered everywhere.  
  
Mari tilted her head at the stack of books on the floor, as high as the table, and let Nat's hand go to run her fingers over them. Her eyes widen slightly at them, and looked over her shoulder to Wynne, who was busy talking with Alistair, Morgan was looking at another stack of books. She looked back at the ones in-front of her, running her fingers over them again, all of them were on arcanum and blood magic, every single one.  
  
She recognised some of the names, for dad had exactly the same ones. All but three when she looked at the spines. She looked over her shoulder again, slowly taking the books from the pile, putting her pack down on the floor to put them in. These, she would most definitely read when they made camp again. But why did the circle have books on blood magic, when dad told her it was forbidden to even read them within the walls?  
  
"Salroka, what you stealing," Nat whispered in her ear, standing behind her as she shoved the other book in her pack.  
  
"Books, Nat. I need one more, stay right there," she muttered back, sliding the last book out.  
  
"I found a pretty black and blue one over in the corner, want me to steal that one too for you?"  
  
Mari nodded her head, Nat walked away slipping part way into the shadows to where she said the book was. She felt someone slowly walk up behind her when she stood, and lowered her head a little when Morgan looked down at the same stack of books she was just stealing from.  
  
"That, t'would be mo-more appropriate, Hawke. Though, curious. Wh-why would the First Enchanter and the circle, have these in the first place?"  
  
"I have it, Salroka," Nat grinned pushing the book into her hands, Mari marveled out how heavy it was, how intricate the patterns on the outside were.  
  
"No, it cannot be!"  
  
Mari frowned looking at Morgan when he backed away from it, "What?" she asked him and frowned even more when his fist tightened by his side.  
  
"You must put that back! Do not- no- put it back!" he stormed over slapping the book away from her hands, "You mustn't take it!"  
  
"What the fuck Morgan!"  
  
He leaned down to her ear and hissed in it, "Tis m-m-mothers old Grimoire. Leave it here."  
  
Mari frowned even more when he kicked it away from them, "Andraste's arse, Morgan, don't you want-"  
  
"NO!" he shouted storming out the room.  
  
Alistair stormed out after him asking what the fuck his game was as Wynne slowly walked over to the book, nudging it with her staff, "Hmm, the young man seemed to be rather perturbed by this."  
  
"His mothers Flemeth, Wynne," Mari muttered at the older woman putting her pack back on, then sighed out at the argument outside the door, "and that seemed to be hers."  
  
Wynne wrinkled her already wrinkled forehead stepping around the book, going towards the door to the two men shouting at each other. And Mari's heart sank a little when she left the room to with Nat's hand in hers. She didn't want to leave the book behind, but if it upset Morgan, then she wouldn't take it with her. She sighed out again at Alistair pushing his fingers into Morgan's chest, the other man slapping them away from him as they shouted at each other.  
  
"Enough if you will young men," Wynne put her staff between then pushing Alistair away from Morgan, "we have work to do. Alistair, please go first."  
  
"This isn't finished, freak. Mark my fucking words," Alistair hissed barging past them all to go up another flight of stairs.  
  
Natlie let her hand go, going after him up the stairs, Wynne rolled her eyes going next leaving her standing there with a shaking, angry Morgan. She watched him fist his hands a few times then shake his head storming off after them. Mari slumped her shoulders walking slowly up the set of stairs, she didn't want to be here any more, the just wanted to throw up again and run out the tower, flinging a lightening bolt at Greagoir when she left for good measure.  
  
The veil up here was worse then down there as she suspected. The cold seeped deep into her bones, breathing out little wispy smoke, the ugly dark magic pricking her skin rolling her stomach the further they walked.  
  
Something dark went over her vision, she blinked rapidly trying to get it back. The hairs in her arms stood on end when it happened again, then Mari collapsed knee first onto the floor.  
  
"FIGHT IT!" she heard someone shout, but it sounded so far away, everything sounded far far away when she went on her side onto the stone.

* * *

  
Morgan shook his head at the demon trying to be his mother in-front of him. Foolish thing couldn't even get her right when he turned on his heels away from it. The old hag behind him roared out in anger at his insolence, but Morgan ignored it walking through the utterly poor fade rendition of the hut in the wilds. It couldn't even get the twisted trees right, along with everything else when he went down on all fours and ran through the fade.  
  
The others had to be here somewhere, stuck in this trap the demon laid for them. Who ever this being was, was obviously not a Greater, but a Lesser trying to feed on them. Morgan ran even harder, trying to catch a scent of someone, anyone in this trap, but couldn't get a scent at all.  
  
They had to be here somewhere the further he pushed on. There were five of them that entered the trap, four should be caught somewhere, but there was just no scent trail for him to pick up.  
  
Morgan growled out in frustrated into the ebb and flow of the fade around him. He couldn't be the only one to realise this was fake, that this was not real. He lowered his head a little slowing his pace down, he hoped Mari knew this wasn't real. He felt guilty slapping the book away from her, he felt guilty shouting at her. But he had too, that book was nothing but a curse on everyone. A curse on himself even if he hadn't read the thing. How the First Enchanter had it, was beyond him.  
  
Morgan whined when he sat on his haunches, looking about himself, hoping something or someone would aid him here, but there was none.  
  
No, no he couldn't sit here like this, he had to keep searching for them, even if it meant helping the infuriating bastard of a man. He had to push on, he had to find them among all this. Even if he found the old woman, it would be a start.  
  
Morgan put his head down and ran off again, his nose trying to pick up anything, some sort of smell he could follow. He was growing more anxious the longer this went on, not finding anything.  
  
No, but there had to be someone here, there just had to be. This couldn't be his nightmare. No, it was impossible for this to be his nightmare, to be completely alone. It just couldn't!  
  
A slight shimmer caught his eye, making him stumble in his run going head over tail when it happened again. He yelped out loud, skidding to a stop on his side, the smell of Natlie catching his nose. He laid there panting for a few moments, watching the shimmer of the dream Natlie was caught in, hearing her shout out at something. Morgan stood up slowly, feeling the pain run over him, but that didn't matter when a friend was in trouble.  
  
A friend? He didn't know if she thought of him that way when he trotted over, limping to her dream.  
  
She was sitting there in a tavern, another dwarf sat opposite her, another on her right. But Natlie looked miserable with her head bowed ignoring the two other dwarves talking to her. One was much younger, but had Natlie's face, had the same colour hair and eyes. The other was male with rich brown hair and eyes, grinning wide drinking.  
  
He yelped again when his leg gave way making Natlie shoot up out the chair at the sound. Her eyes were wide looking at him, picking the mug up as a weapon, brandishing it in-front of her when he limped forward.  
  
"Stay back thing, whatever you are," she glared at him waving the mug out, "what the nugfucker are you anyway?"  
  
Morgan snorted a laugh at her when she cocked her head at him as he changed, "Forgive m-m-me, Natlie. T'was the only way to run through all of this."  
  
"Fucking nugs balls, Morgan! Wow, that's so cool. So wheres everyone else? I'm stuck in Tapsters with this bunch of fakers."  
  
Morgan nodded his head at her, "So you know this is n-n-not real. Good. You ha-ha-have to fight them to leave, to where the other who is keeping us here."  
  
Natlie grinned up at him, bringing the mug down on the males head, making the dwarf roar out in rage at them both, showing his true form along with what probably was Natlie's sister. She grinned again picking the chair up, bringing it across the face of one of the Sloths, getting one of the legs embedded in its side. Morgan grit his teeth using the Sloths blood to boil it from inside out, then turned his ire out on the other Sloth jumping over the table in wolf form to tear it's throat out.  
  
Natlie cheered when he spat the ichor out of his mouth, cheered then groaned when she was pulled away from him. Good, one down three more to go.  
  
He cursed when he set off again, cursed for not healing himself before changing into his wolf form, he could do that after he found the next one.  
  
A scent of old books and cloves captured his attention. The old woman Wynne. And followed it while he limped through the shimmer. They must all be close together if he found her so soon after Natlie in the huge demesnes.  
  
He cocked his head, watching the old woman free herself from the dream around her with the aid of another. The spirit looked straight at him with his gaze and nodded his head at him before taking Wynne's hand to leave. Morgan would have to ask her why she had a spirit with her when he set of again.  
  
His leg and side were hurting badly when he put his head down to run. He yelped out in pain when his leg buckled under him sending him head over tail again. He howled out in agony into the fade around him, he couldn't change back with the amount of pain he was in and laid there panting out hard. Morgan slipped his eyes closed, willing himself to move, and yelped once more when he couldn't stand.  
  
He felt the pull of magic on him, he panted out hard looking about himself to where it came from.  
  
"Stay still, kid," a male voice said but he still couldn't see where it came from. "Fucking shits your a strongun' ain't ya."  
  
A shadow went over him, felt a hand on his side then howled out feeling the pain run through him again.  
  
"Hey, hey, hey, it's alright, kid. I ain't gonna hurt ya. Though to be honest, you really shouldn't be here, none of you should. Bastard's messing with the wrong Hawke, I can tell ya."  
  
Morgan slowly opened his eyes to the man smiling down at him and whined at the the face, the hair, everything. The man grinned and nodded his head at Morgan, "Yup, got it in one, kid. Malcolm Hawke, at your service."  
  
"B-b-but, your dead," Morgan muttered changing back into his human form, gaping up at the man still grinning at him from above.  
  
"Yup, I am, don't mean I ain't still gonna be around to watch my girl. She means more to me then the rest of them, just don't tell them that," Malcolm chuckled offering his hand to Morgan to help him up. "So lets go get her, huh."  
  
Morgan dipped his head at Malcolm, looking him over. Mari said there were no other in her family with odd eye colour, but Malcolm did. She had his face, she had his hair, she didn't have his height when they ran off together. He was covered from neck downward with scarification and arcanum tattoos, but yet, Morgan could still feel the magic on him.  
  
"Just 'cos I'm dead don't mean I still don't magic, kid," Malcolm chuckled next to him. "But naw, I'm blind in one eye. Can't see fuck outta it, never have done. Mari really is the only one in the family with two different eyes. Lucky girl."  
  
"Sh-she misses you greatly. I am sorry."  
  
"For what kid? That I died and she didn't. It was either me or her, and I choose myself. No fucking way was I gonna let that bastard kill my girl. No fucking way."  
  
Morgan bowed his head a little, this man, this dead man had so much love for Mari that he let himself die for her. He, would never know what that would feel like, he doesn't even know who his own father was let alone his own mother showing any sort of affection for him. He, felt humbled by the man next to him when he looked the man over again.  
  
"There," Malcolm pointed then the man cursed when he wrinkled his nose up seeing what had Mari trapped. "Oh, hell no. MARI!" he shouted when they got closer.  
  
She tried to turn around on her knees, Morgan growled low in his throat at the blood running down her arms. The demon behind her glaring at them both for interrupting with it's hand in her hair.  
  
"Dad? Andraste's tits, DAD!" she shouted then flailed as the hand grabbed her hair more pulling her away, "Fucking get off me!"  
  
"Pathetic," Malcolm spat at the demon pulling Mari to stand by her hair. "Can't even get Carver right. He don't have the same colour eyes as my girl."  
  
"She is ours!" it roared at them, "You took the others, but this one WILL be ours, mortal. You will not deny us our meal."  
  
"Like fuck she's yours, Terror. Come on, show your true self or are you to much of a pussy? Pathetic," Malcolm sneered.  
  
Morgan smirked at the dead man, looking under his hood at him then over to Terror who roared pushing Mari away from him, then lunged at Malcolm. Malcolm just laughed out loud when he danced out the way, then kicked Terror in the back with his boot, "Please, I've had better with my actual son."  
  
Terror roared again and Morgan flicked his hand out with a paralysis, catching the demon in its hold and hexed him, making Terrors blood pour out of a hundred smalls wounds creeping over its body. He then put his hand on Terrors head and walked away from it, the arcane symbol he put there glowing bright purple before Terror exploded into a gore everywhere.  
  
Morgan looked at father and daughter from under his hood, cocking his head to one side and felt- something stirred in him again like it did before. Something he could not name.  
  
"Dad, it really is you?"  
  
"Hey, shh, it's alright, punkin. It's alright," Malcolm had Mari in his arms, her head was buried in his chest his head resting ontop of hers. "I'm really here. Fucking bastard messed with the wrong girl, punkin. I ain't gonna turn my back on that."  
  
Morgan turned away from them, this wasn't for him to hear, this wasn't for him to witness. He knows Malcolm can hear him, the man was once a powerful blood mage before he died, almost as much as mother. He lowered his head a little, still feeling humbled by the man. He wondered how Malcolm had found them here, in the demesnes of Jealousy, it was a large demesnes as it were, but to find him among it? To aid him? Morgan shook his head again a little confused.  
  
"Nah ah, kid, thinking like that will make ya brain melt," Malcolm chuckled next to him, "Trust me, I know."  
  
"The f-f-fade is a large place, Malcolm. How did you- Perhaps I should of li-li-listened to mother on that part," Morgan sighed out.  
  
Malcolm threw his head back and laughed hard, clapping him on the shoulder, "When ya dead ya don't bugger off. You either stay or ya go. I stay. I got shit to do first before I make my choice on where to go."  
  
"Dad, you need to know about Carver," Mari murmured from behind them both.  
  
"I already know, I heard everythin' you said. Really punkin," Malcolm chuckled bringing his daughter in for another hug, "a tree? Soppy date you. As bad as granddad and his bloody trees. Andraste's arse, remember how many he planted before he went bonkers."  
  
Mari giggled on her fathers chest, "One hundred and fifty one. No more, no less, it had to be one hundred and fifty one. He had two cats too dad, which he lost up one of the trees."  
  
"Fuck me, my dad was mad. Too many years listening to the wailing dead in Nevarra, punkin. Drive me bonkers too." Malcolm kissed Mari's hair and smoothed it down as he pulled away, "I gotta go punkin. I'll deal with Carver, and you got mages, the Blight and Greagoir to deal with. Do me proud yea, killing that cunt. Make his body twitch and dance."  
  
"Will I- will you-?" Mari wiped her face looking at her father, Morgan lowered his head again looking away.  
  
"Yea, but not yet. Gotta lot of shit to do, punkin. And kid," Morgan turned around to Malcolm, "you do me proud too, huh, your a goodun'. Oh and that Grimoire, take it. You fucking take it and read it. But whatever you do, DON'T do the ritual, trust me on that."  
  
Morgan nodded his head at Malcolm and smile softly at the man, "I will. Thank you."  
  
"Now go on, both of ya. I can deal with Jealousy, I have friend's," Malcolm grinned at them both before slipping away.  
  
Mari sigh out loud next to him, wiping her face again and Morgan, was at a loss for words. He, had no idea what to say right now. He, no, they needed to find Alistair among this place, free him from the dream Jealousy was forcing on them, then wake up. He sighed out himself looking down at Mari and swallowed a little before he attempted to speak again.  
  
"W-we should find the Ex-Templar."  
  
Mari nodded her head wiping her face once more, "What about Nat and Wynne?"  
  
"They are fine. They b-b-both freed themselves. Let us be off," Morgan blinked and lowered himself to the ground as he changed. He didn't want to have to talk right now, and being a wolf he only had to whine or boof a response, plus it made it easier to find the scent of the infuriating man.  
  
Morgan wondered what ritual Malcolm referred too, and why was it so important he take that damn Grimoire with him. He honestly didn't want to, it was truly nothing but a curse on him, on everyone. But if the man said take it and use it, then he will. He still didn't know how he felt about all this, when his nose caught the scent of Alistair, he would need a lot of time to think alone, think about everything that is and would happen when they are done with the place.  
  
He cocked his head as the scent became stronger, and boofed at Mari to follow. She was just as quiet as he when they walked through the shimmer to Alistair's dream, both of them stopped at the sight in-front of them.  
  
Alistair had his hand's over his head chained to the ceiling as he knelt on the floor, his head hung low. Several marks cross-crossed over his back, blood running from fresh ones, blood trickling down his wrists from the shackles.  
  
The door opened in the small cell as a flaxen haired mage gets pushed in as well, his back just as torn open as Alistair's when he's shackled and chained to the ceiling in-front of him, the mages honey eyes weeping and bruised.  
  
"Anders," Alistair whispers out, "Makers breath what have they done to you?"  
  
Morgan shook his head stepping forward but was stopped by Mari when she gaped at the flaxen haired mage, "Al, this isn't real. None of this is."  
  
"Ma-Mari? What the fuck, how-what?"  
  
"A Jealousy demon is keeping us here, what your seeing isn't real, Al. You need to fight it, don't let it get to you." Mari whispered to him.  
  
The flaxen haired mage choked back a sob as Morgan unshackled Alistair from the ceiling, and began to cry at them, "No, no please, take me with you, PLEASE! Maker please."  
  
"Tis a d-d-demon of Despair, Templar. Do not listen to it, least you become d-d-despair yourself."  
  
Alistair frowned at both himself and Mari then back at the mage narrowing his eyes from the floor at them, then shook his head at them both. "The real Anders is either dead or still locked up in solitary. Makers fucking balls, I know he's not real, I know he's not." Alistair bowed his head a little, "Still hurts though, going through all this again."  
  
"It will, Al. We still have the rest of the mages to try and find, and I have a date with Greagoir," Mari smiled softly at them both.  
  
Alistair smiled back at her, but glared at Morgan. No change there then, when the fade shimmered and twisted around them as they woke up.  
  
As Malcolm and his friends killed Jealousy.

 


	13. The Band of Blighters. (Ch Six & Seven)

**Six. A Lesson Taught Well.**

Alistair ground his teeth together pulling his sword free from the Desire who ensorcelled the Templar. That was almost him, when he kicked its body away from the now dead man. That could of been him stuck in the dream. No, nightmare, of having to relive that moment of his life again. He ground his teeth more to the fact both Mari and Morgan HAD to be the ones seeing it, had to be the ones saving him from it.  
  
He just couldn't catch a break at the moment, he really couldn't.  
  
First is was that when Greagoir caught him and Anders together, planning the mages escape from the tower for the sixth time. Only to have Anders thrown in solitary after they where both caned bloody. Then there was his other friend Jowan, trying to get to the repository with his love, Lilly. Fuck, that was a mess when Jowan turned out to be a blood mage, striking every one down then fleeing when Lilly turned her back on him.  
  
His entire life was a disaster. One after the other after another. Just couldn't catch a break when they found Niall's body torn to shreds on the upper floor.  
  
"Oh Maker," Wynne muttered bending down to another of his friends, all because of Uldred, "he has the Litany of Adralla with him. He never got to use it."  
  
"I'm going to rip that fucking arsehole apart when we find him," Alistair growled out low, his hand tight around the hilt of his sword, "this was my home, my friends, my fucking family. And he tears them apart? Wynne, I don't want you up there, nor either of you two."  
  
Alistair wrinkled his nose up pointing at both Mari and Morgan when they started to protest, "NO! All three of you will stay out of the way. He's a fucking blood mage, a filthy ugly fucking blood mage, killing everyone I've ever known. All blood mages are nothing but filth."  
  
"Was that really necessary, Alistair," Wynne muttered pulling him to one side when Mari stood there shaking at him, Morgan growling low in his throat at him, "You really should think before you speak, dear."  
  
"Jowan would of killed me," he hissed at her, pulling his arm free, "he was my damn friend then turned out to be a blood mage after all. _Shit_."  
  
Alistair clamped his eyes shut to stem the flow of tears threatening to fall. He didn't hate Jowan at all, just, hurt by his friend tricking him. He really didn't want to see anyone else fall to Uldred, though Morgan can fucking suck it. No, he couldn't catch a break when he took the Litany from Wynne's hands. Maybe he should take them with him, Natlie was more then eager to see this nightmare end. He knows shes scared when she doesn't speak, seeing the fear in her eyes at every dead body around them.  
  
He was just so angry at all this. Angry at Greagoir for killing Mari's own father. Angry at his own father abandoning him to the chantry back in Redcliffe. Angry at the entire Templar order for what they did to his friends, what he tried to stop them from doing time and time again. Angry at Uldred making it even harder for anyone to trust a mage. Angry at himself thinking he could do this.  
  
But he wasn't alone when he looked over everyone. He wasn't alone when he hung his head. Duncan may of saved him, may of been a father figure for him, may of seen something worthy within the beaten Ex-Templar. But he didn't feel worth in himself at all. He felt nothing but an empty void aching to be filled.  
  
"Lets, lets just go," he muttered rolling his shoulders, "we still need to get to the Harrowing chamber. Lets just end this nightmare and find Irving."  
  
"Of course, dear. Lets hope he's still alive," Wynne shook her head and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Maker willing, he's still alive."  
  
Alistair nodded pulling away from Wynne, and sighed loudly walking away from Niall's body towards the Harrowing chamber. He felt sick feeling all the dark magic swirl about them, waking things up that should of remained asleep within the tower. He felt sick still having to have the freak behind them following them. No, he didn't want to get into this shit now, not when they needed to find Irving. He needed to know whether Anders were still alive in solitary.  
  
Something tugged hard at him from behind the closed door near the Harrowing chamber, and it tugged hard at Wynne and the other mages. He put up his hand but before he could do anything, Natlie flung the door opened and gasped pointing beyond it, "Nugs balls, theres someone stuck in a cage!"  
  
The sound of someone muttering prayers beyond made the hairs on his body stand on end. He knows that voice, he knows that voice well as he steps over the threshold. His heart pounded hard in his chest staring at Cullen stuck behind a glowing cage, on his knees, praying the Maker.  
  
"Cul-Cullen, oh Maker what the fuck," he muttered dropping his sword on the ground running over to the man, "Cullen, can you hear me?"  
  
"No no no, I wont listen to your LIES. Maker, stop these dreams, your not real your not here. Stop, sifting through my head. Stop stop stop. Sifting through my dreams, sifting through my thought's-"  
  
Alistair drops to his knees in-front of the rambling man, putting both his hands on the glowing cage. "We have to get him out of there," he mutters, "Maker Cullen, listen to me, we're hereto help. Cullen, Cullen?"  
  
"-shaming me with my, my ill advised infatuation with him. Another, another, man. Stop, just STOP, GO AWAY! **YOUR NOT REAL, LEAVE ME ALONE!** "  
  
Alistair's heart sank to the depths of his boots dropping his hands to his thighs, watching Cullen back away from him, his hand pushed out sending a cleanse. Cullen blinked a few times and did it again, shaking his head at him, "No no that, that always works. You can't be real, none of you. No, Maker your not real!"  
  
"Cullen, I'm real. We're here to help you," Alistair whispered putting his hands back onto the glowing cage, "Makers breath, Cullen, I'm real. Uldred will pay for what he's done."  
  
"Alistair? I-I-I- no your not real. Your, your dead. You all are. You can't be real. _Oh_ Maker, please just stop."  
  
Alistair felt the tears roll down his face at the younger man shaking on the floor, his entire Templar uniform caked in blood, his face battered and bruised. It was like the caning all over again when he sucked in a sobbing choke. "Cullen, I'm really here. We're alive. Your alive. We're going to get you out somehow, okay. Maker. Wynne, Mari is there anything you can do? We have to get him out of there, please."  
  
"I'm afraid not, dear. I've never seen a barrier like this before. I highly doubt the other two have either."  
  
Morgan sighed out deeply next to Alistair, and knelt down beside him, his staff laid out on the floor as he put his hands on the barrier. Alistair flinched feeling the dark magic come from the swamp warlock, rolling over his skin as the barrier slowly began to flicker.  
  
"T'would seem, t-t-this Uldred is the one keeping him here. I, ca-ca-cannot break it. The mad man must be slain to remove it," Morgan muttered dropping his hands from the cage.  
  
Alistair nodded looking back at Cullen, who was still shaking. His heart dropped out from his feet through the bottom of the tower, leaving him even more devoid within himself. He felt even more sick then he did before, as he stood from the ground. He felt sick right through his core when he turned around stiffly, looking at everyone behind him. Blood magic and a mad man did this. A mad man he respected once. A mad man trying to free themselves from the shackles of the chantry and the circles. A mad man who could of done this far differently, could saved people instead of killing them.  
  
"Then lets finish this," he muttered taking the sword from Natlie when she handed it to him. "I wont let him harm anyone else I give a shit about."  
  
He left Cullen behind going up the Harrowing chamber steps. He left the younger man sitting there sobbing hard, covered in blood when he pushed the door open. He left him there going up the small set of steps, feeling his stomach rolling at the magic tingling across his skin from up there.  
  
Alistair pushed the Harrowing chamber door open and immediately stumbled back at the foul smell and magic coming from within. They all did when he shook his head and stepped into the chamber. He felt disgusted looking at all the butchered bodies laying on the ground. He felt even more disgusted when Uldred turned around to look at him, deep red veins running over his face and neck, going down his arms, his eyes pure black as the now former Enchanter grinned at him.  
  
"Ahhhh there you finally are," Uldred grinned even more, dipping into a flourishing bow at them, "I did so wonder how long it would take. But I wonder no more as you stand there, like prized cattle for the pickings."  
  
"What have you done Uldred?" Wynne balked at him looking over at Irving's prone form on the floor, looking over at the half transformed abomination's standing behind the mad man when he began to laugh.  
  
"Oh, you may call me that if you wish. But I am no longer that name, I am free. We are all free," he cackled waving his hands around himself. "You could be too, Wynne, I could give you this gift. Be by my side as we free all mages from their confining skins, flay them free. And don't worry about Irving, he's still alive. For now," Uldred scoffed.  
  
Alistair felt his blood boil in him in anger, and sneered his lip at the thing in-front of him, "Enough fucking talk. I'm done listening to you. **KILL HIM!** " he shouted charging straight at Uldred.  
  
Magic went off around him when he bashed Uldred in the face. The man was still laughing raising his hands above his head, pushing Alistair out the way with a mind blast. Uldred roared into the room as his robes started to stretch around him, his face contorted as he grew larger. Alistair shook his head getting up off the ground and went to charge at the man again, his sword out in-front of him.  
  
Uldred roared again, arching his back as his skin flayed open, blood splaying everywhere as a Pride stood where a mage once was. Rivulets of blood running down the Prides face, bits of skin hanging from its many horns and lowered its head before it charged at Alistair. He barely got out the way when the Pride skidded to a halt.  
  
He saw Morgan out the corner of his eye raise a dead mage from the ground and felt sick as the dead mage worked in tandem with the swamp freak. He felt sick when Morgan hexed and bound another abomination under his control and set them against Uldred.  
  
Wynne was keeping them all healed while she sent out spirit bolts, one after another into Uldred and the other abomination's, Natlie slipping in and out the shadows digging her daggers in deep. Mari twirled her staff around her body then sliced though a former mages stomach, then sliced the head off another.  
  
But Uldred came after him again, he was feeling out matched when he dodged out the way of the huge claw trying to swipe him. The dead Morgan raised quickly fell when Alistair sliced through the tendon in Uldred wrist, the hand flapping about when it went to claw him again.  
  
" **THE LITANY** ," Wynne shouted, " **USE IT NOW!** "  
  
Alistair grit his teeth running to the other side of the room, while everyone else hounded on Uldred keeping the thing away from him as he read the spell. He put his hand out with a smite and cleanse and let the spell and his Templar abilities hit Uldred and his lackeys around him. He did it again when Uldred reared back in agony, the abomination's dropping to the ground, writhing in agony as they melted away into nothing.  
  
Everyone descended on Uldred, throwing everything they had at the beast trying to pull in power from the blood on the floor around them. But Morgan got there first, much to Alistair dismay, but relief when he raised his hands up letting the blood swirl around him, cracking like whips when he stuck down hard with his staff. The Pride Uldred screamed in agony as its flesh was flayed from his body, the bloody whips stripping it away piece by piece.  
  
Alistair watched as Mari sucked in a deep breath and raised her own hands up, putting everything she had into a massive thunderstorm. The dark angry clouds right above Uldred, the bolts helping both flay it and go into its core. Natlie ran up beside him panting hard, she gripped his hand tight watching the three mages tear Uldred apart.  
  
"I don't think I wanna to piss them off anytime soon. Nugs tits, thats awesome though!" she panted out looking up at him, he frowned at the huge gash going over her eye and cheek through the tattoo she had there.  
  
Alistair tilted his head running a gauntleted finger over her cut cheek, making the dwarf raise her eyebrows and blush at him, "Your hurt," he murmured looking into her green eyes, "ruined your pretty tattoo, Nat."  
  
Natlie's eyes go huge at him and looked away at the mages still flaying Pride Uldred apart. "It's not pretty," she mumbled at him, "Means I'm dirt."  
  
Alistair frowned even more looking back at the other three. Wynne pushed her staff into Uldred stomach while Mari hacked off it's other hand when it flailed about trying to get at them. Morgan was gone, but a huge black wolf with yellow eyes was on Uldred's neck tearing it out, pushing him over.  
  
"It is pretty, Nat. Nothing to be ashamed of, for being dirt. I'm dirt," he muttered looking back down at her, "Dirt and Maker taken stupid at times. I've just lost all my friends and family because of that thing over there." Alistair waved his hand at Uldred who was now on its back with the wolf still tearing his neck out, Mari and Wynne helping him with their staffs, "I don't want to loose the rest of them. Not for no-one, not for the Blight, not for anything."  
  
"That man, Cullen? Was he, was he talking about you?"  
  
Alistair shook his head, "No. I know exactly who he was talking about, but it wasn't me. Maker, I just want to get out of here."  
  
Natlie rested her head on him as they walked over to Irving, the man was covered in blood and gore, but very very much alive. Wynne knelt down putting her healing hand out, sighing in relief when Irving looked up at them, "There you are, my friend. Just lay still while I heal you. Alistair would you help me with him, we have along way down once I'm finished."

* * *

  
"A _week_? What do you mean a bloody week?" Natlie squeaked at Leliana and Sten.  
  
"Nine days, Natlie. Just over a week you lot were gone," Sten muttered tilting Mari's head making sure she was alright, much to her chagrin when he picked her up and hugged the living crap out of her.  
  
"Holy Maker and his bride," Wynne lent on Alistair's arm wiping a hand down her face, "It was the fade that kept us there for so long."  
  
Mari wrinkled her nose up wrapping her arms around her friend's neck, resting her head on his shoulder. Nine days they were in the tower, it honestly felt longer. It felt a lot longer when she hugged him tighter pushing her face into his neck, feeling the tears roll down her face over his shoulder.  
  
"Kadan, it's alright. Your alive, you saved all you could."  
  
Mari chuckled a wet laugh shaking her head. "I saw dad," she whispered to him, "in the fade. He's dead but still alive there. He, he wants me to kill Greagoir so I wont be angry any more. He wants me to be happy."  
  
Sten nodded his head and whispered back, "Tell me when Kadan, and I will help you."  
  
"As wi-will I, Hawke," Morgan muttered next to them, "I owe your f-f-father as well."  
  
Mari nodded her head mutely as Sten put her down, running his huge hand over her hair. She looked over at the Knight-Commander glowering and bickering with Irving and Cullen. As if they need this shit when she narrowed her eyes. She looked back at both of them and nodded her head.  
  
Sten dipped his once and stood in-front on her, Morgan cocked his own in a question.  
  
"A small trick dad taught me to stop a heart quick, but also to make the dead dance as they die," she smirked out then sighed, "It'll take a lot out of me though. This is why Sten's in-front for both to hide me from what I'm about to do, and brace me when I fall."  
  
"I, can aid you in that, Hawke. If-if you-" Morgan bit his lip and sighed out, "I can aid you."  
  
Mari nodded her head and faced the direction the Knight-Commander was. Morgan stood behind her, making her heart hit hard in her chest when she let lightening roll around in her fingers, watching it turn from blue to purple to orange. She closed her eyes aiming hand down at the ground letting the lightening get smaller and more intense, feeling her mana dwindle rapidly.  
  
The heat from it was almost getting too much, then she gasped feeling Morgan's hand's go on her back over each shoulder blade, his thumbs pressed in deep along her spine joining the unfinished arcanum on her back. The magic flared in her hand briefly, almost making her eyes roll up in the back of her head with the intensity of it, and Morgan's hands on her back.  
  
She pushed her hand down sending the bolt into the ground, just below Greagoir's foot. And then he choked, he choked and clutched his chest as his body spasmed, collapsing against the wall behind him. She smirked dipping her head watching his entire body twitch sliding down the wall as he died.  
  
"For you dad," she whispered letting the magic go, and almost whined when Morgan's hand went from her back swiftly making her stumble.  
  
Wynne narrowed her eyes at the younger woman when she stumbled forward into the giant in-front of her. The other mage taking his hands away from her sharply as if burned, but judging by the look on his face, it wasn't that at all. The blush going over it belied to her, he in-fact liked her immensely. Faith agreed with her when he chuckled in her mind.  
  
She knew what the young woman Mari did when she looked back down at Greagoir's dead body, both her and Faith approved immensely. Considering what the man has done over the years to them all, pretending it was the right course of action against filth like her, like her friends, like Alistair and his- Faith sighed out loud, nudging her to go over to Mari making Wynne snort a quiet laugh at him.  
  
She quickly looked over at Alistair comforting his best friend, Cullen's hands shaking madly on Alistair's back. Makers breath she hoped Anders was still alive down in solitary, she knew none of Uldred's lackeys even went down there, the only person that was there was Anders at any rate. She sighed straightening her back and slowly made her way over to Mari as her tall friend cupped her face, looking it over.  
  
"I know what you did," she murmured as she stood next to the giant, "well done, young lady. A clean death no-one will suspect a mage did."  
  
"You... know?" Mari muttered looking at her in shock, "Wait, you approve?"  
  
Wynne dipped her head at the younger woman, "Indeed I do," she smirked brushing a stray lock of white hair from her forehead, "I'm a spirit healer, and sometimes, a quick clean death is preferable then a slow agonizing one if you can't save them. Also he was an arse. So well done."  
  
"T'would seem, th-th-the old woman has a dark side," the other mage snickered from under his hood, "and you have a friend."  
  
"Yes well, when your stuck here for years you learn to covert a little darkness," Wynne chuckled. "And yes, I do have a friend. Faith to be exact. I'm not surprised one such as you can feel it. Warlock is it not? Flemeth's only surviving son?"  
  
The other mage stepped back away from her shaking his head, "I- I- yes. Why do you care?"  
  
Wynne clucked her tongue at him tucking the stray hair behind her ear again, "You forgot her Grimoire, young man. Oh yes I do know exactly who it belonged too. Irving kept it hidden when another mage bought it in years ago. Foolish boy, playing with fire he didn't understand, and literally set himself on fire. I would feel sorry for Surana, but I don't. Cullen on the other hand, poor boy, loved the elf."  
  
"Parshaara, can we do this away from the phallic broken tower. Preferably set camp up very very far away from here. I need a drink," the giant huffed, "I am Sten by the way Saarabas."  
  
"Well I never! I am no more dangerous then either of these two," Wynne laughed out at Sten's huffing. "A pleasure to meet you Sten. Vashoth? Tal-Vashoth? Certainly not part of the Qun with an attitude like that."  
  
"And how do you know this, woman?" Sten narrowed his pale purple eyes at her.  
  
"I listen. I listen and I learn. Plus I got out quite a bit," Wynne smirked dipping her head. "Hmm, but I do agree you should leave. Would do you no good staying here talking with an old woman like me. Oh? Faith are you serious? Fine fine, he wants me to go with you. Insufferable spirit. Yes you! No I will not!"  
  
Mari backed up next to Morgan and huffed a laugh at Wynne arguing with herself, "Andraste's arse, reminds me of my grandfather. He argued with himself often, and with the trees."  
  
"She would f-f-fit in with us then," Morgan chuckled under his breath at her. "We all seem t-to be a little on the crazy side. Are you okay, Hawke?"  
  
Mari sighed leaning against the wall behind her, looking over everyone in the room, flicking her eyes to each and everyone of them, "Not really. I killed that bastard for dad, but-" she huffed another sigh lowering her head a little, "I'm feeling very overwhelmed. I think I'm with Sten on needing a drink, or something. Maybe go hide in my tent. I don't know I really don't."  
  
"There, is a lot to th-th-think about," Morgan muttered leaning on the wall next to Mari, his thumbs looped in his belted half skirt. He felt just as overwhelmed as Mari when he flicked his own eyes at everyone. This was the first of many trials they would face, that would either make them all or break them apart. And of course he forgot the Grimoire. Of course he would.  
  
Morgan bit his lip pushing away from the wall, and looked down at Mari, "I shall be back. I need to ge-ge-get the Grimoire. I, will not be long, Hawke."  
  
Mari nodded at him when he set off into the shadows as a fox.  
  
"Salroka, lookie what I found!"  
  
Natlie made Mari jump a little then grinned down at her friend holding a rune in her hand, "Oh wow, Nat. That's a lyrium rune! Where'd you get that from?"  
  
Her friend shrugged her shoulders shoving the rune into Mari's hand, "I, may or may not of stolen it from the man over there. I got more," she grinned rattling her pack.  
  
"And this, is why I like you! I think we can add this to my staff," Mari turned the rune over in her hands, looking at the symbol on it. She narrowed her eyes running her thumb over the rune, it wasn't a symbol she recognised at all. But it did hum nicely under her thumb when she brushed it again.  
  
"It m-m-means world," Morgan's deep voice behind her made her jump nearly dropping the rune, "world and s-s-speed. Tis, an unusual rune."  
  
Mari clutched it in her hand before stuffing it in her pocket, "Seems everything in this place is unusual. Andraste's flaming knickers, can we go now? I don't want to be here any more."  
  
Natlie grinned wide up at her, hoisting her pack on more then looked over her shoulder at Alistair. Mari's eyes followed her line of view, and shook her head softly at her friend, then took her hand when Natlie tugged on it to move. Morgan softly chuckled walking next to her, the heavy black Grimoire held firmly in his hands. She sucked in a very deep shaky breath looking at it, then up at him quickly, only to blush when she caught his eyes looking down sideways at her.  
  
Mari looked away noticing the small blush on his cheeks too. Andraste's arse, was this seriously happening? Mari frowned leaving the massive stone door of the circle, with Wynne and Faith in tow, she needed to be alone. She needed a drink. She needed to smoke something to quell her mind.

She needed... _something_.

* * *

  
He's never felt more disgusted then he does now. He wants to burn the Grimoire into dust, never to look at it again. He had brothers. HAD brothers until she killed them all for being borne male. She needed daughters, always daughters to extend her unnatural life. Morgan put his hand over his mouth the more he read through the book, he wanted to be sick, he wanted to go back to the hut and rip her apart.  
  
But thats what she wants, for him to return so she could kill him. Like she did with her previous sons when they came of age.  
  
And the ritual, he can see why Malcolm told him not to do it. Another way to extend her life. Another way to use her daughters, so they bore a child tainted with the Darkspawn blood. He now sees why she never wanted him in the first place, he was utterly useless to her. Tis why she was hunting for one of her daughters. Tis why he left gladly when she made him go. He knows she must have a plan, a backup of a backup in-case she couldn't find one her many daughters scattered far and wide, but he knew it didn't involve him.  
  
'If only you where mine, child,' her heard her say to Mari. Oh how thankful Mari wasn't one of her many many daughters, how thankful he was that she had a father who watched and protected her, even in the beyond. Helped him when he was injured.  
  
Morgan kicked the book away from himself, he didn't want to read any more horror from within. He recognised some of the training from within, but most, where aimed at her daughters. He really was useless to her. He's never felt more relieved then he does now that he was.  
  
He felt the heavy gold necklace around his neck and sneered at it, ripping it away tossing it in the woods behind him. He didn't want that any more, someone else can have it, find it, take it, use it. He felt the bone necklace and thumbed the skull, thinking. His entire life had been her telling him everything was nothing. That he was nothing.  
  
He wasn't nothing, he was something, somebody, not a thing.  
  
Morgan felt his heart grow heavy again when he slumped onto the ground, he wasn't nothing. He could be something more then what he was. His inability to even have a proper conversation was her fault. His slight stammering was her fault when she wouldn't allow him to have any friends, nobody in his life but her. He, had nothing, because of her.  
  
He sucked in a deep breath dropping his hand to his thigh, then sucked in another as he changed into the wolf. He needed to go walk about, he needed to clear his mind free from all the things he read in the book, which would no doubt haunt him for a long time.  
  
The camp was quiet as he trotted through it. They had all been quiet when they left the tower with a new friend, two really, but they all felt heavy leaving that place behind with less then a handful of useful mages, and even less Templars. The children were not old enough to aid them, the tranquil could help supply health and mana potions, could even supply runes when they needed them, but nobody in the camp wanted to use the tranquil in that way, none of them.  
  
Not like he couldn't make healing potions, elfroot potions, whatever they wanted. But lyrium potions, they'd have to steal them from somewhere for Wynne. He didn't need them, but Mari on the other hand-  
  
Morgan shook his head and whined slightly, sitting in the middle of the camp. Her father had called him a good one. He's never been called anything like that by anyone. His heart felt heavy again as he stood back up, looking about himself. He nosed several things around the camp that had been left outside of tents, and stopped in-front of Mari's. He tilted his head slightly, pushing his nose slowly into the open flap to peer inside. He whined again finding that she wasn't within.  
  
He wondered where she could be when he backed away.  
  
His nose twitched, catching the scent of something burning. His nose twitched again at the smell of elfroot being burnt, and smacked his tongue over his snout at the scent of honey and apple as well. He let his nose guide the way, the smell coming strongly just on the outskirt's of the camp.  
  
Morgan wheezed a small chuckle in his wolf form, slowly walking forward to where Mari was hiding smoking elfroot, the smoke puffing out occasionally from behind a tree.  
  
She was lent back against the trunk, her head looking up at the leaves running her hand through the smoke when she blew it out of her mouth, a finely crafted pipe in her other. He sat and watched sitting near her, she hadn't noticed him yet as she took another long drag from the pipe, blowing the smoke out so it curled around her face.  
  
"Watch all you like," Mari muttered slowly tilting her head over to look at him sitting there, "you sneaky cheeky bugger. Andraste's bottom, I knew someone would find me eventually, why am I not surprised it's you, Morgan."  
  
Morgan boofed quietly standing up changing his form. He narrowed his eyes a little at her when she took another drag, then took the pipe from her hand to do the same.  
  
"What the- hey!"  
  
"You are not th-th-the only one who needs this, Hawke," he muttered blowing the smoke from his lips, leaning on the tree next to her, "You have n-n-no idea."  
  
"Fine," she murmured looking back up at the trees canopy.  
  
Morgan looked up at the canopy as well, taking a very long pull from the pipe and sighed out loud handing it back over to her, "T'would seem you are fu-fu-full of surprise's."  
  
Mari snickered, "Yeah, probably. And so are you apparently. Like a little Satinalia present, wrapped up in a blood red bow."  
  
"I am not!" Morgan snorted, "There is nothing li-li-little about me! I take offence to that!" He narrowed his eyes to her giggling at him, her hand was over her mouth trying to stop herself from making too much noise. "I-I-I do hope your not laughing at me," he muttered shoving the pipe back into her hand.  
  
"Andraste's pearly behind, no. I just- oh hell- stop looking at me like that," she snorted more pushing the pipe back to him.  
  
"I shall look at you all I wa-wa-want when you l-l-laugh at me, Hawke," Morgan furrowed his brow taking the pipe from her hand. He shook his head as he took another drag from the pipe, he was acting foolish when he did another, foolish and defensive.  
  
"I didn't mean too," Mari muttered next to him, "You said you weren't little, and I just- ugh, sorry."  
  
Morgan's eyes went a little wide and put his hand over his face, hiding the embarrassment behind it, "Oh."  
  
Well now he felt even more foolish, pulling his hood down even more when he dropped his hand. Now all he wanted to do was flee back to his tent in embarrassment, hide the shame behind the wolf he so loves. What was he even thinking? No he wasn't went he limply handed the pipe back to Mari, smoking elfroot was a stupid idea. Even if he needed it more then anything right now.  
  
"Sorry Hawke, I am not very g-g-good at this," he sighed out from under his hood, "never have been."  
  
"It's okay, I don't mind. Have to remember, Morgan, I had to move around alot, never had any real friends other then my dad and, ugh, that lot. And the moment I make friends, guess what, the worlds going to implode."  
  
Morgan lifted his head from where he had it bowed, and cocked it slightly looking at her, "Yo-you consider me a friend?"  
  
"Of course I do. I wouldn't of given you grandfathers Mortalitasi staff otherwise. A fellow mage who lives free. A mage who can shift his form into the most amazing things. You have no idea how jealous I am of you for being able to do that. I, well, um, I like you Morgan."  
  
His heart pounded hard in his chest again, hearing her words ripple through him like they did when Natlie and she spoke in the water, like they did in the fade. His still had no name for what he felt when he smiled a little at her from under his hood, but for her to call him a friend, that he will take for now.  
  
"I, consider you one as well, Hawke. There i-is m-m-much more I-I-I-" he closed his eyes at his stammering, "much more I wish to say, bu-but I believe we should sleep. Though," he looked back into the camp sighed, "I do not relish the idea of sleeping in my tent w-w-with that damn book looking at me."  
  
"I, um, have room in my tent. Seeing as Nat's in Alistair's getting hammered like a nail. Andraste's arse, I knew she'd end up in there sooner rather then later," Mari chuckled at him.  
  
Morgan nodded his head and snorted quietly changing into his wolf form as they walked back to camp. He nudged her hand with his huge head and boofed at her, Mari smirking at him when he nudged her hand again. Yes, this he could do when she pulled her tent flap back allowing him in first, before she came in her self letting the flap fall closed. He yawned snapping his jaw shut laying down on his side as Mari slid under her covers.  
  
Yes, this he could do when he let his eyes slip closed tucking his head over Mari's when she tucked herself closer to him. Hes never slept in the same bed as anyone, but it felt right when she sighed into his fur.  
  
It felt right.

* * *

* * *

* * *

**Seven. Love Is A Strange Dark Magic.**

"Wynne? What in the name of Andraste's frilly knickers are you doing?"  
  
"Bah, you see this! This is a sock!"  
  
Mari raised an eyebrow at the white haired woman waving a very sorry looking dingy sock about in her face, "I can see that Wynne. But, why are you waving it about?"  
  
"Because it found it's way into my bedroll! Where is he?"  
  
Mari snatched the dingy sock from in-front of her face earning a glare from the older woman, "Where is-" Mari rolled her eyes at the name in the sock, stuffing the thing in her pocket, "I'll go shove it down his throat, how about that."  
  
Wynne nodded her head sharply to resume her packing, Faith blinked across her eyes in annoyance as well. Andraste's bit's, the pair of them really were a matching set when Mari swiftly walked away from them to shove the sock down Alistair's neck. Ugh, this is the third time in the past week he's left something somewhere, in someones sodding tent when they set up camp.  
  
Mari grinds her teeth spotting him practicing with his pike, twirling it around his body before stabbing it into a dead tree.  
  
"Alistair," she grinds out waving his dingy sock at him when he turns around to face her, then groans as his eyes widen at her wearing her long coat, "Stop staring you bastard. This," she waves his sock again, "was in Wynne's tent! Keep your fucking clothes to yourself. If I find your smalls in my tent again, then your Maker help you, 'cos I'll shove them down your sodding neck!"  
  
"Good morning to you too. Why yes I'm fine, and you?" Alistair rolled his eyes at her, catching the sock. "Oh and FUCK OFF!"  
  
Mari shook her head storming off, her long coat flapping out behind her like a birds tail unfurling in the wind. Natlie and him maybe doing the do, but fuck it, if she wasn't getting tired of finding his clothes scattered everywhere. A week, they've been at it, a fucking week. And already Mari's had enough when she flings her tent flap open to pack. Hammer and nail, wailing fucking moans. **UGH** , she wants to tear her hair out something fierce when she shoves her things into her pack.  
  
"Salroka, come on. We're sorry."  
  
Mari glared over her shoulder at her friend wringing her hands together, "Yes well- GAH!" she flings her hands up in the air resuming her packing.  
  
"Well, fuck you too. Just because your not getting any don't mean the rest of us don't have to!"  
  
"What. Did. You. Say?" Mari ground out looking slowly over her shoulder again.  
  
Natlie shook her head and stormed off leaving Mari kneeling there fuming, wringing her breastband the point it snaps in half. Ever since the whole circle thing, everyones been on edge around the camp. Everyone. Even Sten was reduced to pacing about muttering under his breath. And they still had to go to Redcliffe, Orzammar and the damn Brecilian Forest to find the Dalish as well as this Soldiers peak.  
  
And Mari's blood began to boil when Alistair started shouting at Natlie again.  
  
Yup this band of Blighter's was falling apart already, when the shouting became a screaming match. Mari shook her head throwing the broken breastband on top of her half packed pack and flung herself out of her tent to grab Alistair by the wrist.  
  
"Enough," she spat at him gripping his writ tighter, "just, fucking enough. I get it, we're all on edge, we're all wound up tighter then a water-clock. But if this carries on," Mari lets his wrist go rounding on him, "then the fucking Blight wont have _ANY_ Warden's trying to fight it. We have work to do. _YOU_ , have work to do. How about living up to the Warden name and stop acting like the bitch Templar you are."  
  
"Well said, dear. Now that we have the little episode over and done with, can we continue packing. Don't you Warden's have a keep to reclaim?"  
  
Mari glared at Alistair's face when he backed away from her, nodding his head at Wynne, "Yes, yes. Um, lets, um, go."  
  
"In your knickers, Alistair? Sacré bleu, at least dress first, no." Leliana snickered.  
  
Mari pointed her finger at him, narrowing her eyes as she slowly walks backwards to her tent to resume backing once more. She thinks she and Wynne made their points as she dives back in, throwing the broken breastband behind her, putting her fathers Grimoire lovingly on top of everything in her pack. She still needed to read that, but she will when Natlie and Alistair take the others to the keep, peak, whatever it was. She had a lot more to learn, plus she still wanted Morgan to teach her shapeshifting. Mari grinned at the thought shoving Parthalan out behind her, along with her pack to take the tent down.  
  
A wet nose was shoved in her ear making Mari giggle at the intrusion, "I'm fine, Morgan. Want me to take your pack?"  
  
"If you w-w-wouldn't mind, Hawke," he chuckled sitting down next to her, "T'would seem, you have a knack f-f-for defusing a situation."  
  
"Not really. It was usually dad who did that. I'm usually the one in the middle of a situation," Mari snickered rolling the tent canvas up, "Just a little fed up with the arguing and damn loud fucking. Andraste's arse."  
  
Morgan hummed under his breath helping her tie the tent poles to her pack. He stilled her hand when it started to shake, trying to tie the canvas to the underside along with her bedroll, "Hawke, Mari?"  
  
She sat down on her backside feeling the shakes go right through her core, "Mana, low," she panted out through her teeth clamping her eyes shut. Her mana had dipped to an alarming level after coming back from the tower. It wasn't the first time it's done this after being in the fade, after dealing with demons, but dad usually helped her with his magic to bring them back up. She wished now more then ever he finished his work on her so this wouldn't happen again.  
  
"When the others g-g-go to this keep, I will aid you. _This_ cannot go on, Hawke," Morgan muttered stilling both her hands in his, "You, are c-c-cold as well."  
  
Mari chuckled miserably, "Unless you know how to tattoo arcanum, it's not going to help much, Morgan."  
  
"I can d-do much more then that," he whispers in her ear when he leaned closer to her. "Let me help you."  
  
"What will you do?" she whispers back to him, slowly turning her head, "Blood magic? Old magic? Knives? Needles?"  
  
Morgan smiled against the side of her face from under his hood, "Yes. You wi-w-will not be, able to use your mana afterwards," his lips parted a little when her nose brushed them, "My, mother did not do m-my tattoos. I did. I, will help you."  
  
Mari's heart pounded hard in her chest as if she ran a hundred miles, and was running a hundred more when she smiled softly, "Then finish what he started. Please."  
  
"If you two are done making kissy-faces at each other, we're leaving."  
  
Morgan growled low in his throat at Alistair, making the skin over Mari's body gooseflesh when he changed into his wolf.  
  
"Grow up Al," Mari rolled her eyes picking her pack up when Morgan trotted off, "We were just talking."  
  
"Right, sure. So the swamp freak doesn't have you ensorcelled then? No swamp magic mind control? You are yourself, right?"  
  
Mari ignored him as she walked off to gather Morgan's pack and staff. His petty attitude towards Morgan was grating on her nerves, calling him a swamp freak. She wondered what Alistair would of thought of her father before he died, and smirked knowing he would of struck the infuriating arsehole down... with a fist to the face.

* * *

  
A week would be plenty of time to work on Mari. Neither he nor she wanted to go to this, keep, in the least. Everyone else would be leaving them here alone, in peace, which he would need to work on Mari's skin.  
  
They both decided to join their canvas together, seeing as Natlie and Alistair had reconciled their odd relationship, which would mean they would be sharing a tent, again. Not that he minded, he, really enjoyed being in the same space as Mari. Even if he slept as a wolf next to her. But she didn't seem to mind when he woke up with her face pressed against his chest, his own head over the tops of hers.  
  
It, just felt right to do so.  
  
But right now, they were busy smoking elfroot and foxcap behind their canvas wall, half the tent being braced by two trees, the other half by the poles. Mari had her legs wrapped with his as they laughed about Wynne and Faith's relationship.  
  
"You think it's more then they let on?"  
  
Morgan hummed under his breath thinking, letting the smoke drift from his mouth as he answered, "T'would not be the fi-fi-first time a spirit and mortal have a partnership like theirs."  
  
"So in other words yes," Mari chuckled taking the pipe from him, "I mean, they both act like a married couple. Andraste's arse I should know, mum and dad were the same before it fell apart."  
  
"Fell apart?"  
  
"Yeah, after Bethy was born it, kind of fell a part. What with grandfather going round the bend talking to trees, and the fact Bethy had blond hair to our black. Big give away," Mari snorted taking another long pull from the pipe then handed it back to him, "He never gave up on her though, still taught her even if she hated her magic."  
  
Morgan frowned cocking his head, "Why, did sh-sh-she hate her magic? It is a gift n-not to be squandered!"  
  
"She wants to be normal. I kept telling her before I left, we were the normal ones, it was everyone else who wasn't. She never listened. She never listened to dad either. She HATED his use of blood and dark magic compared to me. Shit, I grew up with a crazy Nevarran death mage and dads strong magic. Is it any wonder why I am the way I am?"  
  
"But still," Morgan shrugged, "it seems, m-m-more mages fear, what they can be rather then embrace it." Morgan sighed handing the pipe back to Mari, letting the smoke out slowly from his mouth and grinned when he blew it away, "Perhaps m-m-more mages would be happier with a spirit friend, hmm."  
  
Mari snorted putting her hand over her mouth, then coughed behind it when she snorted more. He couldn't help the smirked that crawled up his face when Mari waved her hand at him then pointed her finger, "Everybody needs somebody, sometimes two somebodies. But blimey-"  
  
"But what?"  
  
"Can you see mages having a healthy relationship with a spirit? I can't. Some might, some may find it far better then being with another of their kind. Wynne and Faith have a healthy one, dad and grandfather had healthy ones. But look at the mess in the tower, what can and will go wrong with mages. Its abuse in its rawest form."  
  
Morgan hummed again leaning closer to Mari so their shoulders touched, taking the pipe from her hands again, "Perhaps. Would you n-n-not want one? I," Morgan took a drag and smiled softly at her, "I heard what you and Natlie, spoke of w-w-when you where bathing. I, apologise for sneaking."  
  
"Huh," Mari frowned putting her hand up to say no to the pipe, "So not only do you listen to peoples conversations, you _watch_ people bathe?"  
  
"I, said I-I was sorry. I-I-I didn't- I just-" Morgan sighed out miserably sitting back upright, "T'was not my intension to sneak."  
  
"What did you hear?"  
  
Morgan looked sideways at Mari, she was looking sideways at him too, "That, you never experienced love before. Th-th-that you have never been with anyone," he whispered leaning closer, "Neither have I. I k-k-kissed before, but never-"  
  
"To answer your question," Mari whispered back, "No, I wouldn't want a spirit friend, unless I know them well. Like I would have to know someone well enough to, well," Mari leaned closer to him as well, "let them near me."  
  
"What about me?" Morgan felt his heart race in his chest searching her eyes and face, leaning ever closer to her, "I wo-wouldn't be here, if I did not trust you, Hawke."  
  
"And I wouldn't let you anywhere near me if I didn't trust you either," she smiled at him, sliding a hand across his jaw.  
  
His breath shudders slightly, i, felt good feeling her palm go gently across his stubble under his hood. His heart hammered even harder in his chest when he too, put a hand on her face brushing a thumb over her cheek, their noses barely touching. But he wanted to know, he needed to know if-  
  
"Is that all?" he whispered before licking his lips. "Would there be mo-more to it then this?"  
  
"Yes. I would do it for life, not for-" Mari closed her eyes running her fingers through his hair under his hood, "not for a one night thing."  
  
That was all he needed to hear when he crashed his lips with hers. It was awkward, it was beautiful, it was what he wanted from the moment he laid eyes on her in the wilds. The feeling in his chest ached the more they kissed. This was like nothing he has ever felt before when he licked her lips before nipping at them. He wanted more, but not now. It would do no good to do this now.  
  
Mari smiled against his lips when he pulled his hood away, showing his messy black hair off to her, showing his pierced ears to her. His heart hammered even harder in his chest when he pushes her onto her back, slipping his tongue into her mouth licking against it as her legs tangled with his again. Oh did his hips ache when he panted heavily the kiss, dissolving into to something utterly primal with all the slicking and sucking of tongues.  
  
Morgan broke it biting his bottom lip as he rolled his hips into her, then groaned loud at the friction against his cock. No, no he needed to stop this before he gave in, before he could fully explore this new side.  
  
He sucked in a deep breath trying to calm his heavy breathing down, he looked down at Mari resting his forehead on hers. "Not yet," he says quietly, "not yet."

* * *

  
Natlie grinned up at her when she tugged on the dwarf's hair, "Be back soon, Salroka."  
  
Mari shook her head at her friend when she scarpered off after the others, leaving just her and Morgan alone in the camp. Wynne gave a her a small lecture of the dangers of being left alone with a man, much to Mari's amusement when her and her spirit dissolved into an argument. Faith telling Wynne it was a perfectly natural thing while Wynne muttered it was foolhardy.  
  
Sten checked her over again before he set off. Making sure she would be alright, running his hand over and down her hair to her shoulder. Sten nodded his head in satisfaction and left with the others.  
  
She looked down at the small pack Nat shoved in her hands before running off and opened it: A bottle of brandy, a long piece of deep red cloth, and a few books where inside. Mari cocked her head pulling one of the books out and nearly choked looking what was on the cover.  
  
"Dammit Nat," she muttered under her breath shoving the sex book back in the pack, blushing hard walking back to the camp.  
  
Morgan was busy scouting around the camp, making sure they really were alone before he started his work on her. Mari smiled a little, chewing on her bottom lip when she carefully put the pack down on her bedroll. Andraste's pert behind, did she really like him. Well beyond anyone else. Well beyond anything she's ever felt before. Dad was right, she had no name to put to the feeling that went through her when she first saw him, no name at all.  
  
Bah, Mari shook her head pulling out her fathers Grimoire and the other smaller ones, laying them out on the spare canvas on the ground as she knelt on it. She ran her fingers over the black and red tome, over the symbol on the front, and smiled when she flipped it open. She opened the other ones as well, tracing her fingers over the intricate patterns of the arcanum on the pages, written details on what each piece meant.  
  
Mari tied her hair up high on her head, pulling it away from her ears so the tattoos and scarification could go round it. It would have to go almost all over her body for her not to have such a dropping mana level, for her to be able to be a proper mage when she looked at the patterns more. They would have to start on her back where dad didn't finish, and work their way around.  
  
Was she ever nervous about this, baring her body to Morgan as he tattooed her. She trusted him more then she trusted Alistair, more then she trusted anyone else. Dad trusted him as well she noted when they were in the fade, calling him a goodun', to make him proud too. He never said that to anyone else, never.  
  
A soft boof made her chuckle when Morgan nosed the pack Natlie left, "You don't want to know," she chuckled again when he pulled out the deep red cloth.  
  
"What, is it for?" he asked sitting next to her, titling his head when he pulled out the brandy, then barked a laugh at the books, "I believe, she a little de-de-depraved."  
  
"Me too. I think she thinks I need some alone time material. Though the red cloth? Who knows with the little thief," Mari shrugged.  
  
Morgan hummed putting everything back in the pack, then pulled the arcanum book over to him humming again. Andraste's grace, he was so much more handsome with out his hood pulled down over his face, his shoulder long black hair aching to have her fingers run through it again. But she dipped her head pushing her fathers Grimoire away, feeling the heat go over her cheekswhen she ran a hand over the almost over grown underside of her hair.  
  
"Bloody dammit," she muttered running her hand over it again, "I knew I forgot to do something back at Ostagar."  
  
"Then, t'would seem you should g-go deal with it, while I," Morgan smirked waving his hands about the tent, "gather th-the things needed, hmm."  
  
Mari stuck her tongue out him as she stood, picking up her shaving pack to go deal with her damn hair. There was a small pond by the camp, even if the air around them were a little chilly, she could clean her skin and shave her head within. She knelt down by the waters edge, looking at her reflection as she pulled out her shaving kit and soaps and began to work the first soap into a foam.  
  
Mari frowned running the foam through her hair, bringing the knife up to the side of her head over her ear, taking her time in removing the hair. She wondered what was in the keep that the Warden's needed to reclaim it so badly. A man named Levi, found them in the camp, regaling his tale to Alistair and Natlie, but Mari found it all a little suspicious when he started to get jumpy. Maybe that was the man, she thought running her knife carefully over the other side of her head, maybe shes seeing shiftiness where there really is none.  
  
She snorted wiping the blade on the cloth on her knee, everyone was fucking jumpy right now, what with the Blight and the stupid fucking civil war Loghain decided would be a perfect time to have. Andraste's flaming sword, she hopes Alistair kills him when they get to him, hope he takes the mans head off for quitting the field, then blaming the Warden's for getting Cailan killed.  
  
What a bastard.  
  
Mari wiped the blade on the cloth then put it away as she looked down at her reflection again, running her fingers over the smooth skin. She nodded to herself as she packed her stuff away, her skin was clean enough from the day before, she could clean it later.  
  
She made her way back to the shared tent and tilted her head at Morgan standing there waiting, with his arms folded over his chest. His deep red tunic thing gone along with the long leather sleeve, exposing his entire lean upper body, exposing the tattoos underneath. She felt the blush rise up her face when she dipped her head going past him, also noting he removed the belted half skirt, only wearing the well worn leather pants and a few leather bands around his bicep, his hair loosely tied out the way.  
  
"Are you ready?" he asked behind her when she dropped her pack onto her bedroll, "Are yo-you prepared, Hawke. T'will be painful, as you well know."  
  
Mari nodded her head looking back at him over her shoulder, "I am. Where do you want to start?"  
  
He tilted his head looking over her arms and hands, then to her neck and shook his head, "Back. Please kneel."  
  
She nodded her head and knelt down on the canvas covering the floor. She sucked in a deep breath and shivers when he puts his hands on her back, feeling his magic go across the half finished piece.  
  
"Yes," he murmured in her ear, running a finger over the clean shorn skin over her ears down her neck, "we, will start here. Shirt."  
  
Mari pulled the shirt over her head, discarding it to one side crossing her hands over her chest when he gently pushed her forward to curve her back. She breathed in deep feeling his fingers trace the unfinished arcanum, and heard him hum under his breath, "Hold still."  
  
She bit her lip feeling the first mark go into her skin, feeling the magic being pushed in behind it. It felt far different then dads, far far different feeling it go down her back. She wanted to groan at the feeling, feeling Morgan etching her skin with needles, feeling his magic seep through the unfinished tattoos. She wanted to groan out more, feeling it get lower and lower down her back, the blood trickle down her sides from the small knives.  
  
It felt likes hours he's been working on her, Mari's back beginning to ache from the bent position, her hands on her chest getting cramped holding onto her modesty. Mari bit her lip again when Morgan tapped her shoulder to rise slightly so he could work on her upper back more. She muttered a curse under her breath at the stiffness going through her body, she needed to move about, but she knew how dad got when he started tattooing her.  
  
_'Keep still, don't move until I'm done punkin,'_ she can hear him say in her mind.  
  
Mari skin started to tingle the more it was etched, the magic slowly tricking through her. Her heart started to pound hard in her chest the more it joined, the more it connected across her back. Andraste preserve her soul, they were no where near done yet, but already she could feel her magic hum through the tattoos. It felt wonderful the more it went into her skin, the more it went over and through her.  
  
Trickles of blood rolled down her back, seeping into the top of her pants. She should of taken them off, but she didn't want to be completely naked in-front of Morgan. _Yet._  
  
And Mari did groan out loud when it was joined on the back, the tingle of magic going down the tops of her arms. She groaned again feeling a tongue gently go over her spine, going over the tattoos and blood trickling. Mari's cheeks flush even more when the tongue went higher up her back to her neck, hearing Morgan moan a little tasting her blood.  
  
"Fuck," Mari mutters when he runs his tongue back down her neck, "oh fuck, fuck."  
  
"If only you," Morgan whispers in her ear, "could t-t-taste as I can taste you. Apples," he licks over the shell of her ear "is your main scent." Mari shudders when he pushes his chest closer to her back leaning into her ear more, "You, h-h-have no idea how beautiful you are."  
  
He tilts her head to the left and Mari shudders again, "We, will continue i-in the morrow. T'would do no good," he licks her ear again nipping at her piercings, "to have you endure much more."  
  
"I only ache from being in-" Mari chuckled then groaned when he tugged on her earlobe with his teeth, "You keep doing that, I wont be held responsible for what I'll do, Morgan!"  
  
"Mmhmm. Neither will I," he groans in her ear, "but not yet. Even though really w-w-want to."  
  
Mari huffs a laugh when he nips at her ear again, "Then stop teasing me. I can feel you, by the way."  
  
"You, will f-f-feel more then that," he chuckles moving away from her, "when I am done. Go bathe, lest I really do something."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If ANYONE is interested... I can move 'The Band of Blighters' back into its own chapter parts instead of being here.  
> Lemme know, yeah <3 then kick me to finish it :D
> 
> Also Chapter Seven 'Love is a strange dark magic' the name is based off Atticus's poem from his book 'Lover Her Wild.'


	14. The Band of Blighters. (Ch Eight & Nine)

**Eight. Black Cats Ain't Bad Luck.**

Natlie glares at the skeletal corpse on the floor then glares up at Alistair, "I didn't sign up for this shit!"  
  
"You didn't sign up, Nat. You got dragged into it like me," he glared back at her.  
  
Natlie shakes her head putting her daggers back on her hip. This, is not what she thought it would be at all when she agreed to go with Duncan those months back. Nug spit how many months ago did she leave everyone behind? Two, or was it three? Natlie shakes her head pushing another door open in the nuglicking keep of shit.  
  
What she wanted, was to see these sodding werewolves she's heard so much about, and the Dalish. Elves, shes never seen one before, she doesn't remember seeing one at Ostagar, she may of done but ignored it being to happy to be out of dirt.  
  
"Dirt," she muttered under her breath kicking nothing on the ground, "more dirt up here then there ever was down there."  
  
She didn't want to take lead when Alistair started having another fit going higher in the mountains. But she did when he started crying on Wynne's shoulder about someone called Anders. Who the fuck was that? Natlie was getting fed up with the damn man being so secretive with her. Yeah, so she wanted to be hammered like a nail, but not when that hammer is a damn mudhumper.  
  
She sucked in a deep breath coming to yet another door. She promised Mari if she found anything good to bring it back, not like she wouldn't anyway, but this place made her skin crawl, she wanted to go back to camp to her friend. Fuck this shit, she wanted something better then all this, someone better then all this _CRAP_!  
  
"What ever is the matter, dear?"  
  
Natlie wiped her face in frustration, "I hate this," she mutters to Wynne, "I hate everything up here. I want to go home."  
  
She couldn't believe she was whining like a little girl.  
  
"I thought you liked it up here, Natlie? Or do you mean the camp, dear?"  
  
"Go back to the camp. I want Mari, I want my nughumping friend here," Natlie wiped her face again looking up at the older woman, "Who's Anders?"  
  
Wynne's eyes go a little wide looking over her shoulder to Alistair then back at her, "He's, he's... oh dear. Faith, care to step in here?"  
  
The older womans eyes glowed pale blue, her skin shimmered like the night sky as Faith nodded his head at Natlie, "Forgive Wynne, tis a sore subject I'm afraid. Anders is, was one of her star pupils for healing, Natlie. He, is also Alistair's brother. Though," Faith sighs rubbing Wynne's head as if his own, "their relationship is a little, unconventional."  
  
"What? What the nugs balls is that supposed to mean?" Natlie was getting even more frustrated with all this.  
  
"Let me say it as plain as I can. Their lovers as well as brothers. Half-brothers I must say, but lovers as well. I find nothing wrong with it, but Wynne, doesn't particularly think it is a healthy thing."  
  
Natlie's heart pounded hard in her chest looking over at Alistair as he stood next to Leliana and Sten, all of them talking quietly. She felt sick, betrayed to think she slept with him, but yet, he was in love with his own brother? She shook her head looking back up at Faith, "I dunno what to say about that. He could of told me before I-" nope she felt too betrayed to even continue that line of thought, "lets just finish this place up huh. I wanna get back to Mari as soon as possible."  
  
Faith nodded his head and lets Wynne back while Natlie fists her hands by her side. This was the worst kind of betrayal she has ever felt, worse then Beraht, worse then Rica being a sodding whore for him, worse then-  
  
"You fucking, mudlicking, BASTARD!"  
  
She stormed up to Alistair and kicked his leg hard, "You didn't you tell me before I fucked you! You didn't say a nug spitting thing. You stay the shit away from me, Al. You keep that damn dick of yours away from me!"  
  
"Makers breath Nat, what did I do now?"  
  
"Anders," she hisses at him and watches his face pale at her, "Yeah, thats what I thought."  
  
She stormed off though another door in the keep then stopped as a woman with skin hanging of her face started to talk to her. Natlie sneered her lip up, pulling a dagger free from her hip and threw it into the womans head, "And you can shut the fuck up too!"  
  
She's had enough, Alistair wants her to lead, she'll bloody lead them. With Mari's help of course. Yes, they'll both do this shit together with Morgan and Sten helping. Fuck the funny talking woman behind her. Oh she can't forgot Faith and Wynne, she liked them too, but not as much as Mari.  
  
She's had enough, when she pulls her dagger free from the dead womans head and storms out the room, storming past everyone to a set of stairs. She's had enough when another of those demons comes at her, slips into the shadows to go behind it and sinks her daggers in deep, twisting them before pulling them free. Natlie grins when her face gets splattered in blood and goop, going to the next one and the next and starts to laugh.  
  
She laughs at every kill shes taken down on her own, getting covered from head to toe in shit she doesn't have a name for. Her mother always told her to toughen up, to not be a little bitch any more, and she agrees when she stands there heaving looking about herself at the dead demons and things around her. _Oh_ , she'll toughen up alright, she'll toughen the fuck up when she smirks at Wynne nodding her head before heading up another step of stairs.  
  
"Lets deal with this, demon gate thing after we've finished looking around," Natlie said calmly to everyone behind her, "then we will, after being in camp, go to the Dalish and ask them for help."  
  
"Of course, dear. Sound's like a fine plan," Wynne smirked at her.  
  
Leliana and Sten agreed as well, but Alistair still looked pale not even answering.  
  
"I need your answer, Warden. Do you agree?" she looked up at him cocking her head, "Or are you too much of nuglicker to even answer me."  
  
"Yes, yes I accept, agree, whatever."  
  
Natlie dipped her head and lead them all up the stairs. She's never going to let anyone get under her skin ever again, no-one. This is what she was born for. This is why she was here, to be better then everyone back in Dusttown, to be better then her mother, to be better then the brother fucker behind her. All she needed was Mari by her side and they could do anything together.  
  
_Anything._  
  
A small bottle sat on a table in another room, several books sat beside it, Natlie cocked her head flipping a page over with her dagger. She frowned unable to make out the words closing the book shut. She would take all this back to Mari, maybe she could make head or nugstail out of this, and the liquid in the bottle that smelt like really stale milk. Wynne was looking around the room too, looking at the books on the shelves, Alistair was by himself in the doorway. The other two, well Natlie started not to care when she looked at the books Wynne was looking at.  
  
Natlie narrowed her eyes at the words written on it, running her fingers over the lettering mouthing them out. Blood magic, Arcane magic, Spirit magic. She opened her pack and shoved them all inside for Mari and Morgan to go through, Wynne doing the same. The old woman knows Morgan is a practitioner, as she said, of the darker arts, but yet it wasn't evil. She said Faith would of killed Morgan if it were.  
  
"So your the ones making a ruckus. Can't an old man work in peace?"  
  
Natlie's head whipped around to the dusty sounding voice, and let her mouth fall open at the very old bag of bones standing there, his gnarled fingers holding a sheet over his shoulders closed. She shook her head feeling the same tug as Alistair in him then wrinkled her nose up.  
  
"Who the nugs shit are you? I know your a Warden, but what the-"  
  
"BAH," the man glared right at Natlie then flung his hands up in the air, the sheet slipping over his bony shoulders as he wobbled back into the room beyond.  
  
"I do believe that is Avernus, dear. Ugh, what a disgusting little man. 200 years old and still dealing with blood magic."  
  
"Please tell me we can kill him later?" Alistair muttered behind them.  
  
Natlie huffed at him, following the bag of bones man into the room. It would be her decision if she would kill him or not. But they did have a demon gate thing to deal with first, oh and Levi's family nugshit too.  
  
"Let's see what he has to say for himself first," Natlie muttered, "then you can go cry in a corner."

* * *

  
Fur tickled her nose. Fur and the soft sound of snoring woke her up. Mari smiled into the soft fur, opening her eyes slowly and yawned quietly snuggling her face into Morgan's chest. He was still sound asleep next to her when she tilted her head up to kiss him under the chin. Mari yawned again as she sat up, stretching her arms over her head and groaned at the ache going  
through her joints.  
  
They spent the entire day yesterday doing the tattooing on her front, to which Mari was the most nervous about, baring her chest to Morgan. She didn't need to apparently, had no need to even go anywhere near her breasts, under or around them, which she was thankful for. But still had to do her sides, hips and upper thighs. It still hurt when it went over her ribs and hips, was still tender now when she ran her fingers over the scarification and tattoos there, but not as bad as yesterday when she screamed out in pain.  
  
They had to stop and start several times, Morgan the ever patient man allowed her to curse out when she stormed around the camp, to ease the tension running through her. They still had her hands, shoulders, neck and chin to do. Which would mean another couple of days of being completely still, trying not to flinch or scream out when it went over a very sensitive spot.  
  
But right now, she needed to go clean her self again for another day of work on her. It needed to be done, it needed to be completed before the others came back so she wasn't fucking useless to them all.  
  
Mari felt her nose twitch walking down to the small pond. She felt it twitch again as cold went up it then sneezed.  
  
The world suddenly looked larger when she sneezed again going tail over teakettle. The world was larger, louder and bloody funny looking when she sat up.  
  
Mari blinked her eyes and went to rub them, only to find she couldn't. She looked down, she looked down to find her hands were paws. Mari screamed, or so she thought, and blinked her eyes again when she yowled instead.  
  
She yowled, like a cat. No, theres no way she shapeshifted without knowing the poxy spell. _No way_.  
  
Mari tilted her head to look at her paws, and meowed at them. Delicate pink pads encased in raven black fur. She wondered what the rest of her looked like as she slowly walked down to the water. How in the name of Andraste's backside did she know how to be a cat? Grandfathers own perhaps? She did love them until he lost them up a tree. Mari frowned when she got to the water slowly inching forward to look at her reflection.  
  
Two odd eyes looked back at her, as well as two pointed ears, a black nose, and dark whiskers. She tilted her head more and bared her teeth at her reflection, and ended up hissing at it. Mari chuckled when she sat down, feeling her tail wrap around her front paws. She indeed managed to shapeshift into a cat, and giggled again at her reflection. She sneezed and did it with out even thinking about it, without Morgan showing her how.  
  
Mari wondered if, like a typical cat, she would hate water. And so, she tested it with one paw when she stood. She put both paws in slowly walking into the water. Nope, she didn't hate it, which was a good thing when she flung herself into it, and swam around in circles doggy style meowing loud at the feeling. It felt great being this small, when she did another lap in the pond, it felt good, wonderful and utterly different as she climbed out, shaking her self getting rid of the excess water.  
  
"T'woud seem," Morgan's deep voice chuckled above her, "you d-d-did that all by yourself, Hawke."  
  
Mari sat on her haunches and tilted her head at him. Even being this small he was gorgeous to look at, and stuck her tongue out at him when she trotted on by back to the tent, Morgan's laugh following her back.  
  
"Now, let us see," he bent down picking her up, much to her annoyance when she glared at him, then mewed when he stroked over her face down her head, "i-i-if you can change back."  
  
Mari purred rubbing her face across his stubble, oh did it feel so much different being like this, but no less enjoyable when he chuckled softly putting her back down on the bedroll. But he did have a point, she wondered how to change back when she sat down. It seems so easy for him to change, to shift into one form or another. She looked down at her paws, picking one up to look at the underside, then closed her eyes to think about being a human again.  
  
"Am I-" Mari sighed out in relief and flopped down, laughing at her own voice, "Wow, that was amazing!"  
  
"Indeed. Now, turn back."  
  
Mari frowned looking up at him and shook her head, "I sneezed the first time. I have no idea how it happened!"  
  
"Yes, you do," he grinned down at her cocking his head, "It is already w-w-within you, Hawke. Do it again."  
  
She rolled her eyes thinking about being a cat and mewed loudly up at him from her back, then snickered putting all four of her paws up to look at. She wrinkled her nose when she let her claws out of their velvet and admired them. Morgan laughed loudly when he knelt down, running his finger over her paw to one of her claws, and she felt herself purr loudly, kneading the air when he did it again.  
  
"T'would also seem," he chuckled putting his palm on Mari's paw, "you know ho-how to act like a cat. Now, we should see i-if you can do something bigger."  
  
Mari raised her eyebrow at him and smirked when she clasped his hand, "I could take the entirely the wrong way."  
  
"Hawke!" Morgan chastised her letting her hand go, "Practice. Something bigger. W-w-we can deal with that part, some other time."  
  
She thought about being a Mabari, then thought against it. Mari has watched Morgan as a wolf, she and father used to watch them from a distance as well. Yes, she thinks she can do a wolf when she thought about it, closed her eyes tight.  
  
Her body felt odd when she opened her eyes again, and blinked at the odd colours around her.  
  
"Very good. Now, walk around."  
  
Mari cocked her head at Morgan, and whined. She shot up from laying down looking down at her paws as she backed out of the tent. It, felt far different then being a cat, the smells and sounds around her where almost overwhelming, making her whine again. Her nose twitched smelling and sneezed when something strong and smelly hit it. It smelt like stale lyrium to her, when she smelt it again, lyrium and rust. It was a dark smell, when she sneezed again backing away from it.  
  
"T'would be Alistair," Morgan muttered next to her, "not a p-p-pleasant smell. Find another."  
  
Mari whined up at him, knocking his leg with her head. He smelt strongly of woodsmoke, rain and something else. It smelt familiar, it smelt very familiar when she nosed his hand taking in the scent. Her heart raced within her, the smell almost making her drool at it. Male musk, that was the smell when she pushed her nose into his hand more, licking it, sweet heady male musk.  
  
"Not me," Morgan chuckled cupping her head in both his hands, "Try, Natlie or Wynne. Smell th-th-them all, remember each one. That way you can find them, if anything were to h-h-happen to them, love."  
  
He called her love when she looked way. Her heart raced again at the endearment, smelling her way to Natlie's things. She smelt like hops and mud, a very pleasant smell. But no where near as pleasant as Morgan when he trotted up next to her in his own wolf form, much larger then hers, but the smell was divine when she nosed his neck. Morgan nudged her with his head as they walked together over to Wynne tent, and Mari sneezed again at the strong scent of old books, cloves and the fade.  
  
Another scent caught her nose, smelt like roses and incense. Leliana. And another of oak and mint. Sten.  
  
Morgan pushed her with his body over to the water when she nosed Stens things. She couldn't help it when he had cookies tucked away in his pack, the sweet smell making her smack her snout with her tongue, then growled at Morgan when he pushed her again, earning a growl back from him. Mari wanted the damned cookies when they walked over to the water, damn the Qunari and damn Morgan when he pushed her again with his head to the waters edge.  
  
Mari whined a little when she looked back at her reflection, the odd eyes looking back at her, but her coat wasn't black. It was both light and dark grey when she cocked her head to look: light grey over her snout going up over her eyes and ears, dark grey everywhere else. She cocked her head again, wondering why she had that colouration when she was a pure black cat before, and felt Morgan lick the side of her head.  
  
His breath on her neck sent shivers through her body as she sat there, the sweet strong smell of male lingering in her nose after she changed back. "We, should continue with yo-your tattooing. The others will be returning in t-t-two days. I would," Mari bit her lip when he licked up her neck and tugged her earring with his teeth, "like to get this done be-before then, love."

* * *

  
Alistair stood by his tent gawping at the black cat trotting out of it with a piece of HIS cheese in it's mouth. The cat's tail was stuck straight up in the air when he followed it through the camp. Natlie was ignoring the shit out of him, not like it mattered when he followed the cat more going past her. Wynne was sitting on a tree stump with her hand over her mouth chucking at him and the cat, when the black thing sat down in-front of them dropping the piece of cheese to mew.  
  
"Of course, dear," Wynne smiled at the cat, "Faith says hello as well."  
  
The cat picked up the cheese and sauntered off again, leaving Alistair standing there shaking his head, "What in the name of the Makers balls is going on Wynne? Why do we have a cat in the camp?"  
  
"Perhaps, you sh-sh-should look closer, Templar. T'would seem, your eyesight is ve-very poor," Morgan grinned at him from under his hood.  
  
Alistair glared daggers at the taller man, sneering his lip, "Back the fuck off, freak. I'm not in the damn mood for your fucking **BULLSHIT!** "  
  
"Enough if you will. Morgan dear, I don't suppose you could help an old woman with a pack full of books you may find interesting?"  
  
Alistair walked off ignoring them, following the black cat as it made it's way round to everyone, then promptly stopped outside Morgan and now Mari's tent. He frowned when the cat turned around with its tongue out, then slammed a hand over his face at the eyes.  
  
"Makers breath, Mari? How-when- **YOUR A CAT MARI!** "  
  
He heard her laugh when he took his hand away, then promptly stumbled backwards over his feet looking her over as he fell on his arse. She, had tattoos going down from her bottom lip, around her ears, over her arms, everywhere he would see. His heart pounded as much as his dick did in his pants looking her over from the floor when she lent down to him.  
  
"What have I told you about staring, Al? And yes I was a cat, I can do a wolf if you want? No? Then _STOP_ staring!"  
  
"Like hell I wont, Mari. Your gorgeous, look at you with all those, those damn tattoos. Makers breath, now I want some," Alistair grinned pushing himself up off the floor, then let his face drop thinking about Anders and the tattoos he got on his fifth escape attempt. "He's still in solitary," he mumbles looking down at the ground, "he's still in there and I'm not. All because of fucking Jowan. All because I'm a Templar and he's a bloody mage. All because he's my brother and someone I fucking love."  
  
Alistair wiped his face feeling Mari's hand go to his shoulder, "Yeah don't, alright. Everyone thinks me and Anders are- were fucking. I love my half-brother, okay, I love him. But he's stuck in there and I'm out here. They wouldn't let me get him out."  
  
"Andrastes arse, Al. Why didn't you say anything earlier? We could of gotten him out, you know, Natlie and Morgan could of snuck down there to free him. And who gives a shit if your fucking or not," Mari snorts grabbing his face to make him look at her, his breath hitches looking into her eyes. "You love him, thats all that matter."  
  
"I know. Dad didn't want either of us when he gave him to the circle at twelve, then gave me up when he thought I'd end up being a mage," Alistair wiped his face again. He was a grown man crying like a little girl in-front of the beautiful Mari. Who no doubt was now with Morgan the fucking freak warlock, judging by the fact the man was glaring at him when Alistair put his hands on Mari's shoulders. "Mum was a mage, apparently. Maker knows where she is now. We ended up in the tower together, which was easier so I could watch out for my older brother. We both had different mums, but the same dad."  
  
"If you say your related to the king or something next, I'm going to hit you so hard," Mari laughed at him.  
  
Alistair snorted shaking his head, "Sweet Maker, no, maybe, perhaps," he smirked at her, "Don't say a damn word woman."  
  
"Your joking? Please tell me yo- your not are you," Mari's eyes went wide at him.  
  
"Like I said," he whispered leaning to her ear, "Don't say a damn word. It's complicated, that's all."  
  
"My lips are sealed, for now."  
  
Alistair smirked more when she pretended to lock her lips and tuck away the key, then sighed when Morgan stood next to her, glaring even more at him, "Oh, stow it. It's between me and her, not you, alright. So don't worry your pretty little swamp head about it."  
  
The freak growled low in his throat at him when he walked away to talk to Wynne, feeling a little weight go from his shoulders to only be replaced with another one. When they go to Redcliffe, he was going to have to tell everyone the truth, and Maker take him, he hoped Redcliffe was burnt off the map by now so he didn't have too.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

**Nine. The Bad Horse.**

The elf was grinning up at them from the floor, infact he was doing more then grinning, he was eyeing every single one of them up. The horses nearby whinnied again as Mari sniffed around them, seeing if there were others about. Morgan smiled when she trotted back and boofed up at him, his hand going over her head when she sat next to his leg.  
  
The elf shrugged his shoulders pushing up off the floor, dusting the dirt from his armour, "I suppose you can have them. But next time," the elf tutted glaring at Alistair, "mind your manners. I am a Crow after all, was a-"  
  
"Not a very good one. You sure your an assassin? More like an ass."  
  
Everyone groaned, including Mari when she growled low at the idiot.  
  
"I don't suppose you want a failed Crow joining you in stopping the Blight? I am, was, Dalish after all before I tried joining the Crows. And you can have the mounts, I know how bad it is going around Fereldan without one," the elf bowed at them then stopped, "Ahhh, I forgot my name didn't I. Theron Mahariel formally of Clan Sabrae."  
  
Morgan cocked his head looking Theron over. He didn't have his vallaslin, but yet he had tattoos over his face, not at all Dalish. He looked over the well worn armour and bow, then shook his head, "You left your cl-cl-clan sometime ago, did you not? Yo-you do not have your vallaslin."  
  
"Um," Theron bit his lip and sighed dropping his head a little, "I left before they could do it. I wasn't exactly on best of terms with our Keeper, or the clan, our anything else to do with all that Dalish crap. And, um, well these aren't real. Long story."  
  
"And so you joined a league of assassin's? Yeah thats a much better life," Alistair scoffed at him.  
  
"Sort off, I never finished you see, I kinda ran away. Again long story. Is why I'm here now trying not to get killed by you lot," Theron grinned.  
  
Mari trotted over to Theron and nudged his hand as she sat down. Morgan smirked from under his hood at her. She was getting better and better at being a wolf with his tutelage, and smirked even more when the elf grinned down at her running a hand over her snout.  
  
"Your a pretty one, Fen. Never seen one with eyes like yours before. She's very tame," he grins at Morgan, "very pretty colouration too."  
  
Morgan cocked his head to one-side and smiled, "She is m-m-much more then that, Crow. Mari, show him."  
  
Theron yelped when Mari smiled at him changing her form, the elf shook his head stumbling backwards almost falling over his equipment scattered around his camp, "Fenedhis! Your, your-"  
  
"A human, yes," Mari dipped her head at him, "Sorry. I think we're scaring the living crap out the poor boy."  
  
"No, no. Yes okay, you are. Fenedhis, I need to sit down. I would say pull up a stool or something, but well, bandits tore through my camp a few days back, leaving me with hardly anything, and then you four show up," Theron sighs, flopping his arms to his side looking about his ruined camp, "So, seriously, can I come with you? I got nothing better to do."  
  
Alistair nodded his head, along with Mari, Wynne and Morgan, making the elf sigh out in relief, grinning again at them all.  
  
"Dear, you do seem to be a little injured."  
  
"Ahh yeah well, you know how it is with bandits. And bears. And soldiers. And everything else that likes to try and stab you in the middle of the night. I wont say no to healing, Elder, if that's what your asking to do."  
  
Wynne chuckled putting her hand out, the blue healing swirling about in her hand, "Elder? Well, it's a little better then old woman, or crone. Your just a young one, Theron. Eighteen, nineteen?"  
  
"Eighteen, um, hahren? No thats a Dalish term. I don't know any of your names, well, except hers now. Hello Mari," Theron smiled at her. "I like your markings now that I can see them. You do make a very pretty Fen."  
  
"Thank you. Morgan did almost all of them for me. Oh, I can be a cat if you like cats?" Mari smiled and changed her form, and purred loudly when Morgan picked her up stroking her over her head, making her nuzzle his chin.  
  
Theron's eyes go wide as he grinned, "You know, I heard of Dun'himelan when I was small. I never believed any of it. And now I'm seeing it for the first time. Do you shift was well, um Morgan was it?"  
  
"I do indeed. I ca-ca-can do many forms, but I prefer a wolf. But Wynne d-d-does not."  
  
Mari purred even more pushing her face into Morgan's hood, then licked his ear. "Hawke, not now," he chuckled putting her back on the ground, "T'would seem, we have a ne-new friend to, bring back to camp."  
  
"All done dear. You had a few festering wounds, their dealt with now. But I think you should gather your things, we can use one such as your self, Theron."  
  
The elf grinned again, dipping his head then dashed off to gather what he could from the ruined camp.  
  
Alistair smirked at Wynne and Mari, shrugging his shoulders, "Could do worse I suppose. Ahh, lets go help him, huh. Poor kid."  
  
"He's not a Crow. He's hiding something."  
  
"What do you mean he's hiding something, Mari?" Alistair looked over at the elf shoving anything and everything into packs, looking rather flustered doing so, "You... may have a point."  
  
Morgan titled his head as Mari walked over to the young elf and coughed behind him to get his attention. They were too far away to hear what was said, but by the dropping shoulders on Theron, he did not have to when the elf looked back at the rest of them. Theron slipped the Crows head helmet off and dropped it on the floor, shaking his head at Mari, "I'm not- I- well, long story. Can we just, go now?"  
  
The horses were already saddled and hitched to several of the large trees on the outskirts of the Bannorn forest. The lush green canopy letting in enough light to the ground below, enough for small herbs and moss to grow around the bases of the thick trunks. Morgan inhaled the smell around him, smelt far better then any other place hes ever been, better then the wilds. It smelt clean and free when he ran his hand over the dappled grey horse.  
  
He looked over at Mari, who was shaking her head at another dappled grey, muttering under her breath.  
  
"Hawke? What is it?"  
  
She looked over at him frowning, "I've never ridden a horse before. Never had a _need_ to, not with a cart," Mari looked down at the ground and sighed, "Guess nows a good time to learn, and fall off breaking my fucking neck in the process."  
  
"Then, get on m-m-my horse, Hawke. We can tie the other to this one," Morgan smiled at her taking the reigns of her horse, "Behind me, and ho-hold on tight."  
  
Morgan mounted the horse, tying the other to the horn as Mari climbed up behind him. The others had already set off, not that he minded when Mari slipped her hands around his waist, holding on tight when he tapped his heels into the dappled grey horse, urging her to trot.  
  
"Your, father nev-never taught you?"  
  
"No, never had a need to ride a horse, when you had a cart full of kids and whatever we could take when we had to move, suddenly. Do me and you really need them when we can shapeshift?"  
  
Morgan chuckled under his breath at her, "T'would be wise to have, incase. And b-b-be easier to haul our things around instead of Sten, would it not?"  
  
"I suppose so," Mari pushed her forehead into his back, her fingers gripping his waist tighter when he spurred the horse on more. "Oh shit."  
  
He smirked under his hood feeling Mari press even closer to him from behind, then bit his lip feeling himself get hard. The movements of the horse and Mari's hands on him, were doing nothing to stem the arousal going through him. He could sense she was just as aroused as he was with the movements, what with her panting harshly behind him as much as he was from the front. His heart thumped hard in his chest when Mari's hands went lower, and moaned as a hand brushed him through his leathers.  
  
"Not here, love," he muttered under his breath. "I know, I- I-," he moaned again when Mari bites down on his shoulder, then shook his head stopping the horse, "Off."  
  
Mari slid off the horses back while he adjusted his self in his leathers before climbing off himself. He took her face in his hand tilting it upward, his lips mere inches away from hers. "Ride up-front," he murmured before licking her lips with his tongue, "and t-take the reigns. It is simple."  
  
She nodded her head climbing back on the horse. Morgan bit his lip even harder when he slid on behind her, putting the reigns in her hands and spurring the horses on forward again. He licked his lips taking the tang of blood away, putting his hands around Mari's waist then nipped at her earlobe, running his tongue over the shell whispering in it, "Is this what you want?"  
  
He nipped at her neck, sliding a hand down her stomach down to the front of her soft pants to the hem, dipping his hand inside, "Tell me. Is th-this what you want?" Morgan bites down on her neck when she nodded, slipping his hand under her smalls to her folds, earning a hiss from Mari when he breached them sliding his fingers to her wet sex. He groaned against her neck feeling how wet she was down there, his own cock getting harder pushing against his leathers, pushing against her tail bone, "In words, love. Tell me," he whispers in her ear again.  
  
"Yes," Mari pants out pushing her head back against his shoulder, then moaned when he pushed his fingers inside her.  
  
"You have no idea," he panted against her neck moving his fingers inside her in-time with the horse movements under them, "how hard it is t-t-to resist you, love. T'was a feat not to mount you wh-when we were alone." Morgan moved up the saddle more, pushing himself harder against her back, "Not, to mount you everytime we are near. But I wont," he bit his lip pulling his hand free from her, "not yet. I-I-I want to more then anything, with you. With everything that I am. But not yet."  
  
"I, understand why," Mari murmured looking over her shoulder at him, her cheeks flushed pink as were her lips, "I can wait, but-"  
  
Morgan lent forward kissing her lips gently silencing her before sitting back in the saddle, "I'm afraid, tis all. I-I-I don't want to hurt you. I, don't want you hurting me, either," he muttered resting his head on her back. "This, is all new for me. And I'm afraid t-t-to truly let go around you."  
  
"You think I know about all of this, Morgan? Andrastes arse, I'm afraid too." Mari pulled on the reigns stopping the horse, "I want to as well, you have no idea how much. But, I'm just as scared."  
  
Morgan smiled at her pulling his hood back from his face, "Then perhaps, we co-could explore each other first. Though, I really did enjoy, that," he smirked looking down at his fingers.  
  
"I accept that," Mari whispers to him, "better then myself doing it."  
  
Morgan groaned in her ear, "No teasing, love."  
  
"Your the one who shoved his hands down my pants."  
  
"Tis only because, you were m-m-making me hard as well."  
  
Mari barked a laugh at him when he heeled the horse again, "Blame the thing under our legs for that. Andrastes dimpled bottom, bad horse."

* * *

  
Natlie sighed sitting by herself at the edge of the camp, she sighed holding Avernus' hideous book in her hands, the stale milk smelling concoction still in her pack. She killed the man even though he may or may not find a cure for the Wardens, to free them from the taint. But the bag of bones had been working for 200 years on it with nothing to show.  
  
She and Alistair threw up when the man described in detail what he did to people who stumbled on up the mountains, finding the hidden peak for refugee, only for him to take them and use them in his experiments. She forced him to close the demon gate thing, before she took his head off.

Now all she had in her hands to help Warden's who wanted to free themselves, if and when she survives this Blight, was a mad mans book filled with horror.  
  
Natlie looked over her shoulder at the elf. An actual elf. She shrugged when the others bought him back to camp with horses and goods. She thought he would be all magical and glowie, all ears and singing voices. He was just a shorter person then humans with pointy ears and a cheeky grin. Not that she was disappointed or anything when she looked forward again. Cute yes, but she wasn't going to be that person any more when she looked down at the book in her hands again.  
  
A weight on her head made her laugh as Mari's cat face looked down at her, then tumbled off into her lap.  
  
"Salroka, just the person- sorry cat, I need to talk too."  
  
Mari mewed and tumbled off her lap before turning normal again. Nug shit did Natlie love that. She loved all this magic shit going around but not the book in her hands at all.  
  
"Whats cooking, Nat?" Mari smiled at her, tugging on her hair.  
  
"Take a look Salroka, and tell me what you think. OH, and theres this as well," Nat took the bottle from her pack handing it to her.  
  
Mari frowned laying the book open in her lap, then opened the bottle sniffing it. Her eyes go huge when she corks it again putting it well away from her, "That, thats dark fucking magic Nat. Bad magic, shitty horrible- okay you get the jist. Don't drink it!"  
  
"Yeah I thought so. What about the book. I can understand some of it, but not everything. Wynne said to talk to you or Morgan about it. But," Natlie sighed running a hand over her face, "I want your opinion first, Salroka."  
  
Mari shook her head skimming through page after page, her face getting paler and paler the more she read, then slammed the book shut throwing it away.  
  
"I hope that sick fuck is dead. Hope he suffered. That," Mari pointed behind her, "is disgusting. Saving Wardens or no, that is disgusting!"  
  
"He's dead. I took his head off myself. I just thought, you know, save Wardens an all that nugshit. I guess no, huh."  
  
"There has to be a better way then that," Mari shook her head bringing Natlie in for a hug, running her hands up and down her back. "Lets deal with this Blight first. Lets see if we can kill it before it spreads. Then we can see about getting the taint out the Wardens, how about that, little thief."  
  
Natlie nodded her head on her friends shoulder, wiping her eyes. She was still feeling overwhelmed with everything being thrusted on her now, ever since Alistair decided to step back so she could lead.  
  
Another pair of arms went around her from behind, and groaned feeling the man himself put his head on hers, "I thought I told you to fuck off."  
  
"Oh, shush. I'm not doing this to get back in your pants, Nat. I'm doing this as a fellow Warden," he muttered in her hair, "Besides, I have an idea."  
  
Natlie frowned when everyone broke the impromptu hug and turned around to face Alistair, "Please tell me it doesn't involve cheese? Anything but the nughumping cheese, Al!"  
  
"Noooo, well maybe," he grinned then laughed when she pushed him onto his backside. "Okay, okay, hear me out. Now theres quite a few of us, what if we divide into two teams? I take one lot, you take another. Leliana needs to go to Denerim, so does Sten apparently, and I can take Wynne with me. You can go with Mari, Morgan, Theron to the Dalish. See those werewolves you so badly want."  
  
"Actually," Natlie smiled at him, "thats a great idea. You can meet back up with us in the forest. How long?"  
  
Alistair shrugged, "A week and a half tops on the horses. If you leave markers, we can follow them to the Dalish, unless Theron knows where their camped in there."  
  
"Okay then, you got a deal, mudhumper."  
  
Alistair grinned leaving Mari and her to it when he ran off back into the camp. There, was something going on there, but what, she didn't care to know right now when she turned back to face her friend. Mari smirked at her, brushing a lock of loose hair from her forehead, making her blush a little at the affection again, "So, Salroka. You and Morgan, huh?"  
  
"Nat, don't."  
  
She grinned at her friend as she laid down in her lap, "Oh come off it, not hard to see. So, have you been bent like a nail yet?"  
  
"NAT! Andrastes tits, no. Though," she watched the tinge of pink go over her friends face biting her lip before she chuckled out, "we, did kind of get frisky on the back of the horse. Bloody thing."  
  
"Oh, how frisky is frisky? Did he fuck ya hard?"  
  
" **NATLIE BROSCA!** No, nothing like _that_. Just," Mari lent down to her face and grinned while she whispered, "slipped a couple of fingers in. I now know a whole new meaning of being mounted."  
  
" _Oh_ I bet. Wow, why can't I have something like that? Just sounds so, I dunno, romantic? And look at you with all those beautiful tattoos," Natlie sighed closing her eyes, letting Mari braid small braids in her hair, "your so beautiful and brave and smart and so nughumping curvy its sickening, Salroka."  
  
Mari tugged on her hair, "Nat, don't. Your beautiful too. Your braver then me jumping head first into the Warden business. I would of been one if things turned out differently, perhaps dying at Ostagar like I wanted. But then-"  
  
"T'would never of me-met the mysterious warlock of the wilds."  
  
Natlie's eyes shoot open at Morgan's deep voice behind them, making Mari blush even more when she looks back at her. "How long you been there, Morgan?"  
  
Morgan smirked from under his hood at them both and walked away, leaving both Natlie and Mari sitting there looking at each other. Natlie also noticed he had Avernus' book in his hand, taking it back towards the campfire before tossing it in, the flames burning green before going back to normal.  
  
"Ahh, nugspit. I think he heard everything."  
  
"Yeah, so it would seem."  
  
Natlie chuckled putting Mari's hands on her head, urging her to finish the small braids she was doing throughout. She hummed closing her eyes, a song from Tapsters, an old bawdy song of large breasted dwarven women and men with large swords, and smiled letting the worries go from her as Mari played with her hair.  
  
She thought about having to return to Orzammar, seeing all the people who condemned her for the provings thing, for being a brand. Oh their all going to be nugspitting pissed when she goes back wearing her Warden armour, spitting in their faces. There would be nothing they could do about it when she returns. Though, she hoped Rica is okay, she hoped Leske was okay too. He was her best friend, was her best tumble-  
  
Natlie sighed when Mari kissed her forehead and smiled up at her friend, then grinned when Wynne called everyone for dinner, shooting out of Mari's lap.  
  
"Race ya, Salroka," she giggled running backwards.  
  
Mari grinned back at her and changed into her cat, chasing her all the way back to camp.

* * *

  
"Fen, so I need to tell you something. _And_ , I don't how to tell the Wardens."  
  
Mari cocked an eyebrow at the young elf wringing his hands together, his damp pale blond hair flopping about his face. Mari tapped the ground next to her, "Theron, you can speak your mind. Their not going to bite, you know."  
  
The elf smiled then started wringing his fingers again as he sat, "So, yeah. I am Dalish, was Dalish. I got exiled three years ago. Well, I kind of-," Theron fisted his hands in his lap and sighed out loud, "I fell out with the Keeper when she wanted me to bond with another. Thing is, I, wasn't interested in her at all. I, wanted to bond with Tamlen, my friend, but Merrill was so put out that I loved him, she made a fuss about it."  
  
"Wait, so, your telling me you got exiled because you didn't want to be with a woman? Sorry, forced to be with one?"  
  
Theron shrugged with one shoulder, "Yes and no. It's not forcing, but you know, growing our numbers. I just wasn't interested in that. I loved Tamlen not Merrill, the Keeper was understanding but then things started to go a little wrong when I honestly wanted to view the world, not hide behind trees. That's when we fell out when I expressed my desire to leave the clan. Tamlen was going to be bonded with my sister after that out of spite."  
  
"Holy shit, thats, thats fucking mean, Theron. I thought Dalish were better then that," Mari frowned down in her lap then shook her head, "But thats not what you want the Wardens to know is it. I'm sorry about Tamlen, being exiled, but why did you lie about being a Crow?"  
  
"Because I accidentally killed one."  
  
Mari blinked a few times then just stared at the elf.  
  
"You... accidentally killed one? A member of the famed league of assassins and you, killed them? Er, how?"  
  
Theron shrugged one shoulder again then flopped down on his back looking up at the lush canopy above, "I didn't mean to, it just sort of happened. They were tracking your friends, on orders from someone called Loghain- Oh, I still have the papers so you can believe me!" Theron rummaged around in his armour and pulled out several papers, "See, right here. Loghain Mac Tir  
orders the death of the remaining Grey Wardens. Employing-"  
  
"-The Crows to carry out his deed. Oh, shit," Mari took the papers from him, looking each and every one over, then squinted at the name on some of them, "Arl Rendon Howe also sanctioned this, sending a," she brushed the dried blood away at another name, "Zevran Arainai posthaste to-"  
  
"He was the one I accidentally killed. I didn't mean too, well I guess I did, but I didn't."  
  
Mari smiled softly at the elf when he looked up at her, his fingers back to wringing each other again, "You took out an entire troupe of assassins, Theron. People who would of killed my friends. Accident or no, thats fucking amazing!"  
  
"I didn't kill them all, just him. He was on his own, I thought he was a shem coming to attack me and, I pierced his heart. Wasn't until I took his helmet off, that I found out he was another elf. I, I killed another elf, Fen," Theron put his hands over his face as he shuddered in a breath, "So, so I took his armour, looked at his tattoos and buried him under a tree as is tradition for the Dalish. I became him for a while, until the bandits killed the rest in my camp, and then you lot showed up not long after that."  
  
She frowned again looking the younger elf over, he looked different without the fake tattooing, he looked far younger then any of the others. Mari smiled softly at him, brushing a lock of his pale blond hair from his temple, he was just so sweet. He flicked his hazel eyes up at her and smiled a watery smile, "Your not like other shem I've met. Most hate the fact I'm an elf, a slave, someone they think they can take advantage off."  
  
"I think you'll find, I'm _not_ like most people. No-one here is, Theron."  
  
He shook his head taking her hand in his, looking it over, tracing the tattoos and scarification with his fingers, "I know that. I mean, your different from all of them, I can see it. These really are pretty, Fen, better then the vallaslin I would of had if I stayed. I never wanted that etched on my face, a picture of a god I have no kinship too."  
  
"Which god would you of chosen, Theron?" Mari asked him, running her own fingers over his cheek.  
  
"None. I mean it. I feel nothing towards our supposed gods. Another reason why I wanted to see the world, because my kin is out there, not hiding in forests like frightened Halla."  
  
Mari wrinkled her nose up then sighed, looking out into the forest around them, her books she were reading discarded next to her, "Then, do you feel awkward coming to help us find the clan in the Brecilian forest?"  
  
"No, not at all. Their not my kin, their nothing but selfish prideful people who wont even help their own kind in the cities," Theron smiled up at her again and clasped her hand in his, "I would rather help those who can't help themselves. I want to find my own path in life, and this, what you and your friends are doing, I want to follow. Especially you, Fen."  
  
"Me? Why me?"  
  
Theron smiled wide as he sat up, still clasping her hand in his. "Because your a pretty shem. Pretty shem who makes a pretty Fen. Can I see it again?"  
  
Mari shook her head slowly at the elf and changed her form. He grinned even more putting both his hands on her head, running his fingers through her fur as she smelt him. He scented of grass and wood, a very pleasant smell when she licked his face. She nudged him gently with her nose making him smile at her, nodding his head.  
  
He had to go tell the others who and what he really was, she boofed when he got up to leave.


	15. The Band of Blighters. (Ch Ten & Eleven)

**Ten. Whos Hurting Who?**

"Go no further. The Dalish are camped here!"  
  
"Just the people I was looking for," Natlie grinned up at the elf.  
  
"I highly doubt that, Durgen'len. What do you and your _'Friends'_ want?"  
  
Natlie pulled out the Dalish treaty and waved it up at the woman, who had her bow trained on Mari, "Er, could you not do that. She's my Salroka, hate for her to die because of a misunderstanding. I have, er, shit," Natlie grumbled when she dropped the treaty on the ground, "I'm a Grey Warden looking for help from your people, against the Blight."  
  
The elf narrowed her eyes at Natlie then at Mari, "That _SHEM_ will not be allowed in here. Neither will her pet. Though he," she waved her bow at Theron, "may enter."  
  
"Not to be rude or anything, but we all enter."  
  
"No."  
  
Natlie felt her anger boil up in her when she thrusted the treaty into the other elf's hand, "This gives me authority to speak with- Theron what was it again?"  
  
Theron put his hand up, taking the Crow helmet off, "I was once part of clan Sabrae. I've been exiled, but I am here aiding this Warden and her friends. We do need your help. Will you allow all of us to speak with either the Keeper or the Hahren?"  
  
"And I said the Shem and her pet don't. They wait here until you return with Zathrian's answer. Follow Durgen'len and Exile."  
  
Natlie turned facing her friends and shrugged, leaving them there to follow two Dalish into the camp. The angry one still had her bow trained on Mari, glaring at her.  
  
"That went well," Mari muttered to Morgan running her hand over his head, "Think it would be best if you stayed that way for the time being."  
  
Morgan boofed nudging her leg.  
  
"Why are you talking to your pet, Shem? If it comes near us, we will kill it."  
  
Mari shook her head at the angry elf, "I wouldn't if I were you, friend. We're not here for trouble, but Andraste's tits, your making it hard for me to like you right now with threats like that."  
  
"I am not your _friend_ , Shemlen. I wont warn you again, if it attacks us, we _WILL_ kill it. And we will kill you. Your kind has done nothing but kill us all for your, your selfishness, your arrogance."  
  
The angry female elf sneered pulling back her bow string and aimed it right at Morgan, "Lets see how well you fair without your, pet, Shem."  
  
"Don't. You honestly don't want to do it. I don't want to hurt you, but please, don't kill him," Mari felt her entire body shake in anger at Dalish woman. The others around them raised their weapons also ready for battle and Mari felt her heart sink when the angry elves grinned and let loose their arrows.  
  
Mari screamed putting out her hand letting her magic roll over her skin, over Morgan creating a shield to protect them. The arrows bounced off the shield, but Mari's blood ran cold at the hate from the elves attacking them. She wrinkled her nose putting her hand out again, and pulled back sharply, knocking them all to the ground with such force, some fell from the side of the hillock's with a crunch.  
  
"I said don't, Dalish. I don't want to kill you, don't make me kill you, please."  
  
Morgan growled low in his throat next to Mari, he was just as angry as she was by the Dalish still attacking them, ignoring Mari completely as more arrows hit her shield.  
  
"What ever your thinking Morgan, don't. We need their help whether they hate us or not. I'd rather we leave then have to kill them. I don't want to kill them!"  
  
He shook he head and charged out the shield. Mari shouted for him to come back, but he needed to protect her regardless. His entire instinct's where calling him to protect her when he bit down hard on one of the elves necks, tearing it out.  
  
" **NO!** " Mari screamed at him when he went to another. " **PLEASE STOP!** "  
  
" **KILL THE FEN! KILL THE SHEM! KILL THEM ALL!** "  
  
She had to do something when an arrow pierced his side, making him howl out in pain when another hit. The entire camp ahead erupted in fighting too. This whole thing was a trap, and they fell right into it when she let the shield drop. Her magic rolled over her skin again, letting the blood spilt on the ground swirl around her. Mari's eyes rolled into the back of her head when she spread her arms out, arching her back as her feet barely touched the ground as she was lifted.  
  
The blood twined around the elves pulling them onto the ground, wrapping around their arms and legs keeping them in place as more bloody vines wrapped around their necks. She didn't want to kill them, but they left her no choice when they were ripped apart by the vines. They left her no choice when some tried to take her down again, an arrow getting stuck in her leg.  
  
"I warned you," she murmured arching her back more as the ground erupted in more bloody vines, "I didn't want to kill you."  
  
She felt something hit her side but ignored it, letting more blood swirl around her arched form, feet mere inches from the ground. She felt on fire when her magic seeped into the ground, into the trees, letting them come alive with the spilled blood. Morgan may of taught her some, but what she was doing now, was from dads Grimoire when she scorched the ground with the fire in her veins.  
  
Mari gritted her teeth when she dropped onto the ground again, the bound flaming trees storming through the encampment ahead of her. But her heart pounded hard in her chest at Morgan standing there dropping the body of an elf onto the ground, looking at her before running over. What the fuck was happening here?  
  
"We have to leave, Hawke. W-w-we need to get the horses," he ran his hand over her face and grimaces at the arrows in her side and leg, "It was a trap."  
  
Mari nodded her head at him, "I know, but why? Other then the fact they hate humans."  
  
"Werewolves," he murmured putting his forehead on hers, "fear i-i-is strong in the air. But, not from the Dalish. They would of killed us, regardless. M-m-more are coming."  
  
Several howls echoed out around them deeper in the forest, sending shivers both through himself and Mari. They looked at each other and nodded, moving away from the camp as they both healed the other. Mari grit her teeth when he pulled the arrow from her side as she pulled the one from her leg, resting against a tree. More howls rang out, making her shake out at it. She noted Morgan was shaking as much as she was, and stilled his hands.  
  
"What the fuck is going on?" she asked him when he bared his teeth.  
  
"They call," he growled out, "th-th-they call for aid, for help. They are being slaughtered by the D-d-dalish. We must help them."  
  
He cupped her face in his hands, smearing blood from the wounds across it over her lips, then lent down to them licking the blood away. The overwhelming need to protect went through him again when he forced his tongue into her mouth, smearing more blood over her face and neck. Mari's hands bunch up his clothing the more he swipes his tongue across hers, pushing her further back against the tree.  
  
He rolled his hips hard into her making her gasp at into the kiss, and did it again. It wasn't enough when he grabbed her hair pulling it back slightly so he can run his tongue over her lips and down to her throat, scraping his teeth over her skin when he rolled his hips hard into her once more.  
  
The sound of horses hooves behind them broke the moment, making Morgan growl out in frustration that he was interrupted on Mari's neck. Mari whined a little when he backed off from her, adjusting himself in his leathers dipping his head down when the other two rode up.  
  
"We need to go, Salroka's. Those fucking nuglickers tried to kill us too!"  
  
"I told you the Dalish where arseholes," Theron glared then flicked his fingers under his chin at the encampment, "Filth. Lets go. I think we can help the werewolves."  
  
Mari shook her head pushing away from the tree, wondering what the actual fuck was going on when she mounted her horse. Something went through her mind and brushed it off when she spurred her horse on.  
  
She shook her head again when the feeling came over her once more, then flinched when a womans voice whispered through her mind.  
  
_'You hear me, young one? Help us, they are killing them. We cannot stop them alone.'_  
  
"Shut up. I wont listen to your lies demon," she ground out through her teeth.  
  
_'Please, listen to me. I am no demon, none of us are. I am a spirit. Please.'_  
  
"Stop. Talking."  
  
_'We will not hurt you, unless you hurt us. We just want to be heard, young one. Will you not hear us? Will we be left to suffer more years?'_  
  
Mari shook her head again, rubbing her temples with her free hand. Morgan pulled on her reigns sharply making her horse stop, but Mari's head hurt with what ever it was trying to talk to her.  
  
"Who are you?" she muttered under her breath, "What do you want?"  
  
_'Only to be heard. To be listened too. That is all I ask.'_  
  
"Where are you?"  
  
_'In the old ruins deeper in the forest. Ask the Rhyming Oak, he will aid you.'_  
  
Morgan caught her arm before she could slip of her horse, the voice was so overpowering in her mind it hurt. This was nothing like a demon trying to take control, this was nothing like what father put her through when she breathed heavily on her horses mane. Mari clamped her eyes shut hard, to the point, stars danced across her vision before she opened them again.  
  
"Hawke? What di-did you hear?"  
  
"A womans voice asking for help. To be heard. She said shes a spirit but I'll reserve judgement on that fact. Have to find a Rhyming Oak to talk too."  
  
Natlie frowned from the back of her pony up at them, "A what now? More shit we need to deal with? Nughumping bullshit, I was hoping this would be quick and easy."  
  
"Did she say where this tree would be, Fen? I know some of the Brecilian pretty well, but not his part. I've never been here with the clan, can see why now."  
  
Mari shook her head sitting upright on her horse, rubbing her temple again, "Just deeper in the forest, Theron. What the fuck is going on?"  
  
"T'would seem wise t-t-to find this Rhyming Oak. Then, perhaps we-we shall receive answers."

* * *

  
Mari laid awake looking up at the night sky above. They spent a few days looking for this Oak that Rhymed, but to no avail. This place was enormous as they rode through the beautifully twisted trees with their red and gold leaves. Theron had no clue where they were the further they went, which only added to the sense of dread within Mari.  
  
Morgan was asleep well away from her, which just added to the feeling of dread and unease going through her. 'To avoid temptation,' he muttered to her when he walked way. Was she tempting him? Not after the whole horse thing. Not that she did anyway, just being patient with each other. But the whole thing near the Dalish camp with him pinning her to the tree, his pupils were so wide when she looked into them, when he pulled her head back with her hair. Wide, and almost black.  
  
She didn't know whether it was the blood, the battle, or the werewolves doing it. But Andraste's quim it felt good, to be dominated like that. She would of given in right there and then if the other two didn't show up.  
  
Mari sighed quietly on her back, she wasn't tired at all.  
  
Nope, she couldn't sleep, may as well walk around until she was tired or the first light of dawn peaked its head.  
  
The forest was warm enough for her to just walk around at night in her smalls and sleep vest, warm and exceptionally inviting when she ran her fingers over one of the twisted trees. Her hair moved with the soft breeze rustling the leaves, and smiled slightly the further she walked. Her bare feet carefully treading on the soft green grass below, felt nice between her toes. Small animals darting through the trees, but yet hardly any noise came from anything around her. It was like the night swallowed up the sounds in the forest.  
  
A soft tug of magic danced across her skin, soft like feathers brushing down her arms. It was nice when it happened again, going down her legs sending gooseflesh everywhere.  
  
"Ahhhh, to what do we have here? A human come before me? What do you seek, perhaps to ask of thee?"  
  
Mari's hairs stood on end as a huge tree grinned wide at her where she had her hands on its trunk.  
  
"I- what? Holy crap," she stumbled backwards and fell on her backside when two huge branches moved about like arms at her.  
  
"Do not be afraid, child. Tis only wise to be. But why do you seek, one such as me?"  
  
"Are you the- of course you are. Forgive me, Oak. But, I don't suppose you can help us find the werewolves?" she asked it still from her backside.  
  
"Ahh the werewolves come hide within these trees. The elves hunt them, kill them mercilessly. You seek the Lady, the one who calls. Hidden away, within stone walls. She protects them as do I. Curious as to know why?"  
  
Mari smiled at the Rhyming Oak and dipped her head at it, "If you will."  
  
"To keep them safe from the elves. For twas they who cursed them so. If you seek the Lady, then I will aid. But, I will see in you before you go."  
  
"See... in me?"  
  
The tree lent down taking her face within its branched hand and tilted it, looking it over, humming like wind blowing gently through its leaves. Mari felt her magic react to the Oak while he still looked her over and sighed when it lets her face go.  
  
"I see why she spoke to you. You are strong within. I will give you a branch to open the way. But beware, the elves too are hunting."  
  
"I, thank you Oak. Is there anything we can do for you in return?"  
  
"Find me an acorn, so I can grow. To bond with another, as you will do so."  
  
Mari dipped her head again in thanks to the Rhyming Oak as he went back to sleep, feeling his magic running over her skin again as she made her way back to the camp. The Oaks branch hummed soothingly under her fingers when she brushed it, she smiled to the fact she just found the Oak by accident, and spoke to the powerful spirit in the tree.  
  
A powerful spirit indeed, an ancient powerful one living happily within the wood. Joy? Love? No, it was more powerful then that when she sat down by the campfire. Perhaps it was a spirit once, perhaps something more. But whatever it is now, is ancient. Mari turned the branch over in her hands, the leaves quivered when she brushed them gently, feeling the same tingle go through her as when she spoke to the Oak tree.  
  
A pair of arms went around her shoulders as Morgan sat behind her, making her be between his legs when he reached over to admire the beautiful branch in her hands.  
  
"And, where did yo-you find such a powerful thing, love?" he murmured in her ear.  
  
"The Rhyming Oak," she chuckled at him, "I found him by accident when I went to tire myself out."  
  
Morgan chuckled as well, resting his chin on her shoulder, "So, t'would seem. And, wh-what was this tree?"  
  
"An ancient spirit," she whispered, "He's protecting both the forest and the werewolves along with a Lady. The one who spoke to me. We have to find an acorn for him in return for this."  
  
"We shall," he whispered back, "Come to bed with me. I-I-I cannot sleep without you there."  
  
"I thought you wanted to be alone, so I don't tempt you."  
  
Morgan licked over her ear and nipped at it, "Tis why I cannot sleep. I do not want t-t-to be alone. Away from you."  
  
Mari nodded her head at him, gripping the branch tight in her hand when he helped her up with the other, leading her to his bedroll. His hand gripped her tight as they walked past the horses dozing on each other tied to one of the twisted trees. She could feel his pulse quicken the closer they got, just as much as hers was when she chewed on her bottom lip slightly.  
  
The campfire light barely reached this far back when she stopped, but there was enough light when he faced her to show his pupils where dilated again, his breathing a little harsh when he took the branch from her hand, dropping it onto his pack. Her own heart pounded hard in her chest when he cupped her face, brushing both his thumbs over her cheeks leaning down to kiss her gently.  
  
He was hard when Mari pushed against him, earning a low groan in the back of his throat when she did it again. She was feeling the ache between her legs when he lets her go, and Mari bit her lip as they laid down together on the bedroll, her fingers going through his messy black hair when their lips locked with him between her legs. He rolled his hips into hers making her moan into the kiss, feeling him push against her, she pushed her hips back up into his.  
  
Mari lets her hands go to his shoulders gripping them then more he rocked his hips into hers, grasping his waist with her thighs as they slicked their tongues across each others slowly, their bodies rocking against each other. They still had their clothes on, but Andraste's arse did this feel good, feeling the pressure on her down there from him rubbing her the right way. Mari moaned loud when he nipped and licked down her neck, his teeth scraping against her skin the more they rocked together.  
  
"Please," she groaned out when he sunk his teeth into the pale flesh of her neck, Morgans teeth breaking the skin making her hips buck up into his. "Oh fuck," Mari panted out feeling the trickle of blood go down her neck, then his tongue licking it away.  
  
"Mine," Morgan muttered licking and scraping down her chest to her breasts still under her vest, Mari arched her back into him when his teeth scraped over her nipple. His hips rocked harder into hers, teasing the bud of her nipple between his teeth. It wasn't enough when she arched her back more.  
  
It wasn't enough when he worked his way over to her other breast, it wasn't enough when she reached down between them unlacing his pants. She needed him to be in her, she needed to feel that pressure when the laces fell open. Morgan growled low in his throat at her stilling his movements, taking both her hands in his pinning them above her head, "No."  
  
"Please. Please."  
  
"No," Morgan growled in her ear. "Not yet."  
  
Mari whined arching her hips into his, earning another low growl from him when he nipped at her neck again. She needed to come badly, she needed to feel something when he gripped both her wrists in one. She wanted him to fucking well mark her as his, make him hers when she arched her hips into him again, "Please, fucking please."  
  
Morgan's hand went over her smalls and chuckled into her neck, "So eager. So wet," Mari bit her lip moaning behind it when he slipped under the fabric, "But I w-w-will not do that."  
  
He rocked his hips again as he slipped his fingers inside her, making Mari clench around them sighing out at the feeling of something of him in her.  
  
"There is n-no rush, love," he whispered in her ear, licking over the shell of it, "I, am in no rush."  
  
Mari panted out heavily with the movement of his fingers in her, it was euphoric feeling it, feeling him in her again like on the back of the horse. And Mari sighed when she arched her neck into the bedroll, her own wet sex coating his fingers when they slide in and out of her slowly. She wanted to touch him but with her hands above her head, was a little difficult to reach down and feel him under her fingers.  
  
"I, I," Mari bit her lip and moaned when he fastened his pace a little, "want to touch you, please."  
  
Morgan lets one of her hands go but kept the other pinned, "Do it."  
  
Her hand slide into his pants slowly making him groan in her ear at it. She opened her eyes when she wrapped her hand around his cock, slowly stroking it and smiled against Morgan's face when he shuddered against her. Mari licked her own tongue over the side of his face to his neck, fastening her own pace on him as he did with her, both of them panting out at the feeling. Morgan clamped his mouth over hers again, forcing his tongue into it rocking his hips into her hand while she rocked her own against him.  
  
Mari could feel herself get closer getting fucked on his fingers, feel her nipples tighten more the closer she got. But he was ruthless with his tongue inside her mouth, ruthless with his fingers inside her when he fastened his pace even more, making them both moan out loud when the kiss went all nips and bites.  
  
His cock stiffened even more in her hand the more she brought him off, both his and her body shaking sweating slightly the more they did this to each other.  
  
Mari threw her head back when she came around his fingers, seeing stars behind her eyes as she clamped them tight, then came again when he bit down hard on her neck, feeling him spill out over her hand. Her breathing was erratic as much as Morgans was, shuddering little breaths, little beads of sweat rolling down between her cleavage. Her mind was in the best sort of place, one she wanted again.  
  
They both removed their hands from each other slowly as they came back to themselves, Mari smiled wide as Morgan rested his forehead on hers.  
  
"Thank you," Mari whispered when he opened his eyes.  
  
Morgan smirked against her lips, "Tis I, w-w-who should thank you. T'was better then I thought it would be," he smirked more as he kissed her hard again, Mari melted against him as he rolled onto his side, pulling her with him holding her tight.

* * *

  
Morgan turned the branch around in his hand when it hummed in it, the leaves quivering the deeper they went into the forest. They would leave this here when they leave, would not be right for them to take such a powerful item away from a place like this. But the tree asked Mari to find an acorn so it would have another to bond with. Perhaps this Lady could aid them in that regard.  
  
The leaves on the branch quivers madly making Morgan frown at it.  
  
"What the nugs spit is that?"  
  
Morgan looked up from the branch and cocked his head at a smoky barrier blocking the way, the branch in his hand practically vibrating against it the closer they got.  
  
"T'would seem," he lifted the branch at the barrier and smiled when it melt away, "this, w-w-was a key."  
  
The area beyond was an entrance to some old ruins. Very old ruins when he looked closer at it. Broken pottery scattered around the place the further they walked, swords, shields and bones lined stairs going down.  
  
It felt wrong, the further they walked, the stones hummed with very dark magic. Magic that made even his own skin crawl. Magic that danced across his skin like filth when he titled his head at a plinth. He scoffed out loud seeing Tevinter writing along side elven. Why was he not surprised filth like Tevinter were here at some point.  
  
" **HALT!** You will," a growling voice echoed around them, "go no further."  
  
"We come in peace," Morgan held up the Oak branch in his hand to show, "we, come to sp-sp-speak with your Lady."  
  
Another gruff voice behind made them all turn around as an old short grizzled albino werewolf with just one red eye snickered at them, "Tha bloody Oak sent some children? What ya have there boy. A twig? I ain't gonna play fetch for ya."  
  
Morgan smirked a little dipping his head, "Not, my intention t-to throw. Tis our intention t-t-to help you!"  
  
"Heh heh heh, you hear that? These kids are gonna help! Lady has a sense of humour thats fer sure."  
  
Mari nudged him out the way to glared at the grizzled old werewolf, then shook her head at him, "She asked for US to come. She asked ME to find the damn Rhyming Oak so he would show us the way. You have a problem with that? Then take it up with your Lady, and not with us!"  
  
"You have bite, girl, I like that. I know what the sodding Lady said, she wants to see ya. _ONLY_ you girl, not the others."  
  
Mari looked up at Morgan then at Natlie and Theron. "Fine," she sighed squeezing Morgans arm, "Then take me too her."  
  
The albino dipped his head and motioned with his arm for her to follow.  
  
Morgan shook his own head and followed Natlie and another werewolf away. Theron on the other hand was backed into a corner with his hands up shaking, surrounded by snarling wolves.  
  
"He, is not part of the clan, wh-wh-who are killing you. He is an exile, as yo-you all are."  
  
The werewolves backed off from the boy, who slipped down the wall clutching his chest, panting heavily looking at Morgan in thanks. He looked back over to Mari and the Albino go into a room off the side. He wondered who this Lady was. He hoped Mari was safe, he wanted to follow, to make sure-  
  
He frowned to himself as they led him away to another room, a room stacked with books upon books, rows and rows of them lined all the walls, going over the door. Each book, he noted, were on either werewolves, magic, or stories of old. He wanted to sit down and read each one when he ran his fingers over the spines. They were well worn, well loved too when he opened a newer book, looking at the title; Thedas: Myths and Legends by Brother Genitivi, and scoffed at the entry about Flemeth.  
  
If he ever found the man, he would correct him on the fact Flemeth never had any sons. He was proof that she did have a son, and many more she killed. He would also have to correct the man on the werewolves, they were not infact, mindless beasts.  
  
"You smell of wolf, but your not one of us."  
  
Morgan cocked his head at the voice, the same one who told them to halt, "I, am a shapeshifter. I c-c-can change my form."  
  
"I know what one is, there was a bitch in the wilds who did the same thing. You smell like her," the werewolf growled low in his throat, "but your not her. Who are you?"  
  
"Morgan. Her son. A warlock."  
  
The brown werewolf huffed in Morgans ear, "I don't care what you are. You smell like her, but not as dark. Who's your father boy?"  
  
Morgans hackles rise at being called a boy again by a stranger. "T'would prefer," he growled out, "t-t-t-to be called by my name! I, do not know wh-wh-who my father is!"  
  
"I will call you what I want, boy. You smell like elf, but your not elf. Your human," the werewolf walked around him slowly wrinkling his nose up, baring his teeth, "you smell like filth. Filth who want to kill us all. Stuttering filthy boy."  
  
"I, am not FILTH," Morgan shouted at the werewolf baring his own teeth, "I-I-I told you, ca-ca-ca-call me by my NAME"  
  
"Boy."  
  
Morgan roared launching at the brown werewolf changing his form and gripped hard on the others arm with his jaw. The brown werewolf shook him off, sending him flying off into the bookshelf sending the books flying with how hard he hit it. Then the brown werewolf charged at him, clamping down hard on Morgans neck.  
  
Morgan howled out in pain as teeth dug deeper into his neck, trying to get the bigger creature off him as his form changed back. His vision swam as his body started to go limp, then dropped to the floor when the werewolf let him go. Blood poured down his neck, seeping into his clothes when he tried to move but got pinned against the bookshelf by the throat. "Your going no-where, boy. You'll never go anywhere again when I'm done with you, filth."  
  
" **NO SWIFTRUNNER! STOP!** "  
  
Morgan dropped on the floor again in a heap clutching his neck. He tried to heal himself with his own blood but couldn't, it would not stop pouring from the heavy wound. His vision swam again feeling the blood loss, his mind dimming slowly feeling cold go through him.  
  
A warm hand went across his brow, a soft voice in his ear, "Keep still. I'm so sorry."  
  
He tried to get his vision back when he blinked, but it darkened as his consciousness slipped away.

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

**Eleven. Alistair Has A Crisis.**

_ A few days Prior to the others finding the werewolves, near Denerim's gates. _

"Alistair dear, are you sure? I don't ever recall you having a sister."  
  
"Neither do I. Unless dad started screwing around after he gave me and Anders up. Wouldn't be surprised."  
  
Wynne sighed patting Alistair on the back, "He's dead, dear, and you know it. Why do you insist on-"  
  
"Because I never saw his Maker fucking body, Wynne. How'd you know he's dead, huh? Did you see it?" Alistair shook his head pulling in the reigns of his horse. No-one saw his bastard of a fathers body let alone Wynne, when he supposedly went overboard on a boat going back to the Marches. There was no way he was dead, not with this, sister sending him a letter via carrier raven.  
  
He hitched his horse to the post outside the chantry pulling the letter out again, looking over the address. In the market place somewhere, yeah as if that was helpful. He's never been in Denerim before, and Maker take him, it looked huge when he looked about himself. Leliana sighed out next to him looking about as well.  
  
"Been sometime since I have been back here, ami. It, has not changed much."  
  
Alistair shrugged, "I wouldn't know. Never been here before."  
  
"I will help, ami. But I believe Sten wishes to buy more cookies." Leliana giggled out, pointing to the bronze skinned giant going towards the market place, "He has a soft spot for cats too. Don't let him know that I told you."  
  
"What? Cats? Maker, no wonder he likes holding Mari when she turns into one. Anyway," he smiled down at her, "don't you want to deal with your former Bard Mistress?"  
  
"I do. But, in truth, I am a little scared facing her again."  
  
Alistair sighed out putting and arm around the woman, "You have me, cookie-lover over there and the two behind us. We wont let anything happen to you, Leliana."  
  
"Indeed dear. Faith is eager to help both of you."  
  
"Merci, all of you," Leliana blushed when Alistair kissed her cheek, "Oh."  
  
"Sorry, I'm a sucker for a pretty face," Alistair chuckled out.  
  
"Dear, does that include me or Faith?" Wynne snickered putting her arm around them both, "Or are we talking young people?"  
  
Alistair threw his head back and laughed, kissing Wynne's cheek too, "You know I love you too. Young, old, male, female, don't matter to little ole Alistair!"  
  
"But not Faith? He's hurt, dear. He likes you too."  
  
"I mean him as well. Faith, I included you in all that. Now, if you had your own body-" Alistair waggled his eyebrows at Wynne making her slap his arm.  
  
Sten came bounding back with an arm full of brown packages, grinning like a fool stopping in-front of them all. "I require aid to get my pack off my back. Too many sweets, not enough hands," he grinned even more.  
  
Alistair snickered loudly taking some of the packages from the giant, as did Wynne and Leliana. But internally, Alistair was a sad as a kicked dog left out in the rain. He should never of slept with Natlie and he knows it. All he wanted was to feel again after the caning and beating he got with Anders. He was never going to feel whole ever again, he was too empty inside for any of that.  
  
He would always be empty, always. He didn't think there would be anything or anyone filling that void in his heart. He did wonder what it would be like to have a spirit like Wynne had, because she was so full of life, even though he knows that wasn't the case. But still, it made him wonder if it was possible, for him to have that feeling of warmth, of love go through him like-  
  
"Dear, your not listening again."  
  
Alistair shook his head and blinked a few times smiling, "Sorry, these were making me hungry."  
  
"Mmm Hmm," Wynne raised an eyebrow at him, "Lets go deal with your so called sister, then we can deal with Leliana."  
  
He nodded his head mutely heading off to the market place, looking over the address in his hand again. Why did this feel off? Why did this entire thing feel off to him. Getting the letter mere days after Leliana's attack by hunters hounding her for Marjolaine. Maybe he was being paranoid when he looked at the numbers written on the doors around the market place.  
  
Yeah, that was it when he looked at the number on the paper then on the door in-front of him. Paranoid.  
  
Alistair sucked in a deep breath and knocked on the door, then frowned when it opened slightly. "Er, _hello_? Anyone here?"  
  
"Who's that? You want washin' done, it's three bits. Leave it by the door, pick up in the morrow."  
  
"Er, no, no washing. I'm looking for Goldanna," he pushed the door open more, motioning to the others to wait outside, "You sent a letter to me a while ago. I'm Alistair?"  
  
A woman with ginger hair stormed out a back room, a wooden spoon in her hands when he shut the door behind him. "Yeah I sent a letter. Your not my brother," she muttered looking him up and down, "Who in the Makers name are you?"  
  
"Er, I just told you. Alistair," he frowned at the woman looking her up and down as well. She looked nothing like Anders nor himself, she had blue eyes and bright ginger hair, she didn't even look like father at all, "Maybe theres been a mistake."  
  
"Hmmph, my brothers Alistair, but he ain't you and you ain't him. You look likes a noble, he don't."  
  
Alistair felt heat go over his skin, stepping back away from the woman trying to get the door knob behind him, "Yeah, theres been a mistake. I hope you find your actual brother. Take care."  
  
She didn't answer when he fled from the small hovel. He felt the heat go more over his skin when he ran past Wynne. Maker fuck everything, she said he looked like a noble, theres no WAY he looks noble, he didn't feel noble when he stopped by his horse.  
  
_Shit._  
  
"Is everything alright, dear? You look like you've seen a ghost."  
  
"No, no, just, shes not my sister. Wrong person is all. Shit Wynne," he ran a hand down his face and heaved out looking back at her, "Do I really look noble? Does Anders?"  
  
Wynne cocked her head a little and nodded, "A little, dear. You both do."  
  
He felt a little sick and weak in the knees when he lent on his horse. He knows his father came from the Free Marches but never said where, he had no clue where either he or Anders mothers came from, just that his was a mage. Maybe they both were, or he was lying when he gave them both up.

All he remembers were the beatings he got from the man, both of them at the end of his belt when they did something wrong, calling them filthy pig shitters.  
  
Alistair hung his head trying not to cry. He didn't want to remember those times, being locked in the pig sty when Anders left, being left out in the cold with the hogs. His life was one piece of shit after another. He felt the hot tears roll down his face and looked away from Wynne, he needed to get his brother out of solitary one way or another, both of them fleeing far away from here, but he couldn't not now. Not any more with being a Grey Warden, trying to help fight this Blight.  
  
"Do not fret, Alistair. We will free him soon enough."  
  
He looked back at Wynne, who wasn't Wynne at all, but Faith looking at him hidden behind the wall so no-one could see.  
  
"Easy for you to say."  
  
Faith shook his head, then waved a hand for him to come closer. "You think this is easy for me? Tis not, I can tell you. Me and Wynne are bound to one another, she is my friend as you are Alistair. How long have you known me?"  
  
"Four years, when Wynne nearly died. Where are we going with this Faith?" Alistair frowned at him.  
  
"Four years, when I saved her life. Four years we've been bound together. It'll be easier for you to free Anders then it will be for- I have faith you two will be reunited, but for me-" Faith sighed shaking his head again, "Wynne knows we can only be free upon her death."  
  
"Makers fucking sake, stop talking like that, Faith! You two will be around for a long time and you know it." Alistair shook his head and started to pace, "Anders will always be a fucking mage, unless he's made tranquil. I will be a fucking Templar and a bloody Warden until I give my life for- for this SHIT!"  
  
Faith stilled his hands when he started to wave them about in frustration. "Listen to me," Faith cupped his face looking into his eyes, "Wynne is dying and I will have no where to go."  
  
Alistair blinked a few times taking Faiths hands in his, "I beg your pardon. How, how can- You? I don't understand."  
  
"She is dying Alistair, there is nothing I can do to save her life again. I have done all I can for her, but if she dies while I am still within, it will kill me too. I, have no-where to go, Alistair. I cannot return to the fade like this, I have too many experiences here as is and to take them back, would be unacceptable."  
  
"What do you want me to do about it, Faith? Not like I can scoop you up and take you in me. Not like I can save Wynne's life if shes dying again," Alistair shook his head letting Faiths hands drop away from his.  
  
"Would you?"  
  
"Would I what Faith?"  
  
"Take me?" Faith bowed his head and shook it. "Tis a foolish thought. Perhaps I should just die with Wynne."  
  
Alistair took Faiths hands back in his again when the spirits shoulders deflated in defeat at the idea of dying. "Is that even possible? I mean with out killing Wynne. Would she survive without you? Maker, I can't believe I'm even talking about this."  
  
"I, do not know. She, would be weakened, but I do not know how- if-" Faith sighed out again. "Perhaps I should die. Take what I have with me when I fade away. I have seen too much, felt too much, Alistair."  
  
"Stop. Talking. Like. That. I wont fucking have it, Faith. And how the hell do you know I wont die trying to fight this Blight, huh? I might, then what. Maker," Alistair shook his head again resting it against the wrinkled brow of both his friends, "I don't want to think about this right now."  
  
Faith nodded his head and smiled sadly, "I have faith in you, Alistair. I have faith in everything we do. I lov- We have work to do, do we not?"  
  
Alistair snorted quietly when Wynne came back to herself, holding her up when she collapsed slightly on him. Of all the things today, Faith would have to bring that up when he was only thinking about that earlier. He knows Wynne's dying, he knows he might die fighting the Blight. Only one of them would survive and he knows it's not going to be him when Wynne smiles sadly.

* * *

  
He just couldn't stop thinking about his mortality as he gazed at the dead womans body on the floor, looking over the others scattered around the room. Everywhere he looked now, was death, everywhere.  
  
Not like he didn't see it in the tower, what with his filth of a brethren killing mages when they took too long in there Harrowing's, or when they supposedly committed suicide.  
  
Alistair scoffed at that: Brethren, they were NOT his brethren. Anders was his brethren, along with Mari and Wynne and, and-  
  
_Faith._  
  
He shook his head walking out the home with the others. Death was all around him, more then its ever been. More then it ever will be. All because of the Blight. All because he's a fucking Grey Warden, was his duty to see to this Blight along with Natlie. The only two surviving Warden's out of a few hundred.  
  
_Why me?_  
  
Why did he have to survive? Duncan should of survived. He should be here with them helping them do this, not rotting at Ostagar along with King Cailan.  
  
He needed a drink or fifty just to calm his swimming mind down, just so he didn't have to think. No, maybe Mari had some of her Elfroot and Foxcap still left when they meet up again, he could do with some of that. Yes, no drink, but smoke. Yes, he could do that.  
  
"Your thinking too loud, Templar. Mind keeping it down?"  
  
Alistair raised an eyebrow at Sten, "Sorry, I'll try to think over there, how about that?" then walked away from the chuckling giant.  
  
He just wanted to be alone, with his mortality, with his thoughts that should be stripped away with, with, something. Leliana was struggling with hers as she and Wynne spoke softly. Her entire world tipped upside down all because of Marjolaine, the woman who took Leliana under her wing and nearly killed her. Wynne was struggling with hers, what with being the almost walking dead among them all.  
  
Sten... the man was a walking puzzle. Other then the fact he and Mari know each other, and the fact he killed an entire farm hold because they aggravated him. The man was a walking puzzle box.  
  
He maybe an idiot with an unhealthy love of cheese, but he was still just a man. A man with no future, no hope, no... nothing.  
  
He called Natlie an idiot for not knowing anything up here. Maker, he was a hypocrite, he was just as much as an idiot as anyone. She was smarter then him even without knowing about the things on the surface, she was way smarter then him.  
  
Alistair shook his head again mounting his horse to leave Denerim behind. He ought to write to Cullen see how he is. It's been well over two months now, maybe his friends recovered enough to tell him about Anders, if he's been let out yet.  
  
Maker, did he miss his brother. The quiet nights talking behind bookshelves, snickering about who's fucking who or who they fancied at that moment in time. Karl was on Anders mind a lot for a while, even before he was sent to Kinloch as a Templar trainee. Then Karl got taken which broke Anders heart. But who was there to pick up the pieces, he was. No-one else was going to do it when Anders cried on his shoulder for hours.  
  
He really, truly believed he loved Karl. Like it wasn't forbidden to begin with, but it confused Alistair as to why his brother did.  
  
And then he kissed him to shut him up one night. He kissed his older brother just so he could feel what his brother felt.  
  
Maker, it was nice when it was given back too. The slow sliding of tongue against tongue, the hands in each others hair. They never fucked, they never did. Just kissed. Wynne caught them doing it just after Faith happened, they did never did it again. Something changed in him at that moment, yes he still slept occasionally with a Templar or two, but the void in him started to crack open again. Everyone in the tower thought he and his brother were fucking when they found out, even got ridiculed for it. Sex was never the same again.  
  
AND now he was back to being more sad then he was before. _Great, just fucking great._  
  
Lets think about death again, thats a fun one. No? Well tough. I'm going to die. There, back to being worse. Happy now?  
  
Alistair sighed out loud spurring his horse on more, he just wanted someone to take him in their arms and tell him everythings going to be fine. Didn't Faith try to do that though? Yes, he did, and Alistair refuted it. _Shit._  
  
He was such an idiot.

* * *

  
"Wynne, whats it like to die?"  
  
Wynne's face flushed bright red looking about herself, then grabbed his arm as they walked away from the camp. "Did you really need to shout it, dear," she hissed at him.  
  
"Sorry, I'm just- I- fuck Wynne, I don't want to die. I really don't."  
  
Alistair sighed out flopping his arms to his side, he was a grown man acting like a child when he looks back at Wynne, the woman shook her head slowly at him.  
  
"We all die, dear. Some of us sooner then others. Or again, I must say," Wynne chuckled behind her hand. "But what I do remember, was feeling welcomed in an embrace. Not Faith mind you, he was just in the right place at the wrong time I suppose. But I digress."  
  
She sat down on a near by stump and sighed out looking up at him, "I felt like I was falling, but yet, I was rising. Warmth surrounded me while I was cold. I remember my heart beating to a slow step, but yet I wasn't scared. I wanted to die, dear. I'm old and worn out."  
  
"No your not," Alistair couldn't believe what he was hearing. That she wanted to die? That she welcomed it? "You still have a _LONG_ way to go, Wynne. Your not dying."  
  
"But I am, dear. Faith only prolonged it for a little while. It's not his fault that he made a mistake, we all do it. But what brought all this on. The Blight? The circle? Anders?"  
  
He felt the void get deeper in him, felt it widen and deepen when he flops into the ground like a petulant child. It, hurt. The void in him hurt more then anything when he wipes his eyes, "I know. Maker, I feel so stupid even talking about this. All I see around me," he waves his hands as to emphasise his point at nothing, "is death. Ostagar, the circle, everywhere. And all I can think about is, why me? Why did I survive? Why am I alive?"  
  
Wynne shrugged one shoulder at him, "I often felt that way back in the tower, dear. Why am I still alive when that poor girl died. Or, why am I still alive after all Owain went through. Death will always be around us, you know that, dear. And this will only get worse."  
  
"So, what? Steel myself and harden up? Maker I'm trying, I really am. I thought I was tough in the circle. Hey, guess what, turns out I'm not."  
  
"Faith wishes to talk to you, dear. He's very upset at the moment."  
  
Alistair put his head in his hands, he didn't want to talk to Faith right now. He just couldn't, not with everything swirling around in his head like a swarm of angry bees. He wished those damn bees would sting him until he couldn't feel anything anymore.  
  
"Alistair, please look at me."  
  
He shook his head pushing his face into his hands more.  
  
"Please. I-" Faith pulled his hands away from his face forcing him to look at Faiths pale blue eyes, "you... hurt. Why are you hurting?"  
  
"Because theres nothing fucking left in me. Maker, I feel dead inside as much as a bloody rotten corpse, Faith," he sobbed out looking into his friends face. "I miss Anders, I miss my home, my friends, everyone. And whats left there? Nothing. Just like me."  
  
Faith shook his head cupping Alistair's face between his hands, "Your not empty. Unfulfilled, perhaps, but not empty. You are a Grey Warden, as with Natlie, does that not give you purpose? Does that not fill the nothing in you?"  
  
"No, it doesn't. I don't think it will, Faith. All I want is my sodding brother free, others free," he took Faiths hands from his face and lowered his head, "look how well that can turn out. Jowan, that swamp freak, Uldred. Mari's the only one who seemed to have done anything good with it. I'm not a damn spirit Faith, I have no purpose, can't exactly make one now, can I."  
  
"Don't be foolish, Alistair, you already have one. Saving people, helping those who cannot help themselves."  
  
Alistair heaved a sigh and smiled sadly, "You just don't get it do you. Look, I meant what I said in Denerim. If you had your own body, I would totally jump you, Faith."  
  
"Oh? Would that mean you fancy me, Alistair? You have no idea what I look like," Faith chuckled under his breath at him.  
  
"I have good imagination, Faith. But seriously though, I don't want to die for the Wardens. I don't want to be empty any more, and-"  
  
"Kiss me."  
  
Alistair blinked a few times as he gawked at Faith.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Kiss me."  
  
" **WHAT? NO!** I'm not kissing Wynne like that, Makers breath. Be like kissing my grandmother."  
  
Faith shook his head at him cupping his face again, "No, not Wynne, me. Kiss me, please."  
  
Alistair frowned, looking Wynne's face over, looking at the slight sparkle on her skin where Faith was, looking into the pale blue eyes looking back at him. He shook his head slowly and chastely kissed the dry chapped skin letting his eyes slip closed.  
  
His mind swam feeling the fade against his lips, feeling it shock throughout his body and sighed when the lips felt warm on his. They felt warm, soft and wonderful when they pushed more on his, almost like kissing a gentle rain cloud. Arms wrapping around his neck, hands going through his hair and a bulge pressing into him made Alistair's eyes go wide.  
  
He, was no longer in the camp when he pulled back, he was no longer in-front of Wynne chastely kissing her chapped lips. He was looking straight at man who glowed very pale blue, just a little taller then himself, who was smiling softly at him.  
  
"Fa-Faith? What the fuck? How?"  
  
"Yes," Faith smiled at him running his hands through Alistair's hair, "Thought I would show you what I truly look like."  
  
"But, why? I, what-" Alistair blinked looking Faith over, looking at the pale jaw length hair skimming softly down Faiths ageless flawless face, then sucked in a deep breath when the spirit kissed his forehead. "Wont this kill Wynne?"  
  
Faith chuckled slightly, "No. But may kill me. I, wanted to show you me before me and Wynne die. You have no idea how much I love you Alistair. How long I watched you through Wynne's eyes at your sadness. You have so much faith in you, it's overwhelming sometimes. But, I wanted to show you me, to just feel you before we perish."  
  
"Please stop talking like that, Faith. Please, just stop. Your not dying, not yet, you can't." Alistair felt tears well up in his eyes cupping Faiths face, "You just can't," he whispered out through his choked sobs.  
  
"Tis true though. We don't have much time left. A few months, perhaps a year."  
  
Alistair choked back another sob as he crashed his lips to Faiths. He was going to loose everything around him, everything. He wasn't going to loose this small moment that will never happen again, when he slipped his tongue into Faiths mouth, Faiths hands gripping his hair tighter as their bodies got closer together. He wasn't going to loose this small moment of happiness going through him, carding his own hands through Faiths utterly soft hair, moaning hard into the kiss.  
  
Faith pulled back much to Alistair's dismay, kissed his cheek softly whispering. "You have to wake up now. I have faith in you, Alistair, to do the right thing."  
  
He didn't want to wake up, he wanted to stay right where he was when he blinked looking up at the night sky. Tears streamed down his face when he cried into the night, his hands going over his face as he sobbed hard into the dark above.  
  
He was going to loose everything.  
  
He was going to loose everything he ever wanted all because of death.

* * *

  
Alistair has never felt more miserable now, then hes ever done in his miserable pathetic life. Stealing glances at Wynne to make sure shes still alive, to make sure Faith was still there. His heart hurt. It hurt more now then it ever did having to leave Anders behind.  
  
_He._ _Hurt._  
  
He just couldn't catch a break no matter where he was. Maker, why didn't Faith say something years ago? Why did he say anything at all? Why wait until everything was going to be taken away again. Why did this fucking hurt?  
  
Alistair just couldn't sleep either, sending Sten to bed while he took the night watch to think, to cry. Even writing and re-writing the letter to Cullen couldn't keep his mind at ease, wasting several pieces of parchment, ink and two quills.  
  
Maker he was a mess. His hands just couldn't stop shaking everytime he put quill to parchment, inkblots going everywhere with each shake. Nothing could stem the shakes, nothing. Too much fear and dread going through him the closer they get to- to-  
  
_To what? Death? The elves? Redcliffe?_  
  
Everything. It was getting to much, everything was getting to much when he cries into the night again. He hurt, everything hurt, everything he wants wasn't going to be there tomorrow or the next day, everything.  
  
He wished he died at Ostagar now. He wished he never found out Faith loved him. He wished he didn't have to feel anymore. He just wanted to die.  
  
All the talk of fearing death and here he is, wishing it would just bloody well claim him out of his misery.  
  
Alistair bit his lip hard while laying on his back, he bit it so hard it broke the skin. He bit it again and again and again, not caring he was making a mess of his face with the blood going everywhere. When he felt no pain in his lip, he bit down on his hand, right in the flesh of the thumb just to feel.  
  
Tears streamed down his face laying there on his back with a bloody busted lip and a bloody busted hand. He didn't care any more, he was dead inside, there was nothing for him anymore, not even the Blight.  
  
"You keep doin' that boy, an I'll think yer food."  
  
Alistair went to shoot up from laying down, only to have his shoulders pinned by a white werewolf cocking his head at him. His heart pounded hard in his chest looking the moth eaten one red eyed werewolf over. "I'm not food," he muttered out in shock.  
  
"I know that boy, why I ain't eatin' ya. Who are you? Why ya here?"  
  
"Alistair, looking for our friends. Can you get off me?"  
  
The wolf huffed a laugh, ruffling his hair slightly as it got off him. "Aye, seems everyones looking fer something 'ere. What friends? Only things round here are elves and-" the wolf squinted his eye at Alistair, "Hmm, Alistair yer said?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"That be Wynne, Sten and the chantry lay sister, right?"  
  
Alistair nodded his head mutely at the white werewolf, the beast dipped his head and grinned. "Good. I know yer friends yer seek, Templar. Mari Hawke and the other Warden, right?"  
  
"Yes. Are they, are they-"  
  
The werewolf sighed dropping his shoulders, "Yer friend is hurt bad. One of my kind decided to take a bite outta them. Almost ruined everything with his petty hate."  
  
"Makers breath. Who got hurt? Mari, Nat, Theron?"  
  
"No, the other one. The warlock. He ain't gonna last much longer, Templar."  
  
Alistair smirked wiping the blood from his face, "Like I care about that freak. He's going to die on my watch? How nice of him to do so."  
  
"Yer don't understand. He's gonna turn."  
  
And with that, the blood ran cold in Alistair's veins.


	16. The Band of Blighters. (Ch Twelve & Thirteen)

**Twelve. A Wolf For All Seasons.**

Mari's arms hung limply between her legs from where she slumped against the cold stone wall. Dried blood clung to her clothing, to her arms and hands where she hasn't washed it away yet. His blood coated her, trying to stem the bleeding on his neck. Feeling his cold clammy skin under her fingers, his laboured breathing as she and the Lady tried to stop it.  
  
Swiftrunner had done his name sake and ran away from them when the Lady heard the noise, felt the pain go through Morgan as the other werewolf attacked him. There was so much blood, so much splattered everywhere when they ran into the room, Mari's own blood running cold watching Morgan's body fall into a heap on the floor.  
  
Filth, Swiftrunner called him when he evaded capture. Called them all filth when he attacked one of his own just to flee the ruins.  
  
She choked back a dry sob moving her fingers, the dried blood slightly breaking and flaking away from her skin as the hot stinging tears rolled down her face again. She felt utterly numb inside even with the tears falling of their own free will down her face, she felt numb and desolate. They all felt numb.  
  
No cure, she told Mari, there is but the Keeper Zathrian wont help them. Wont break the curse put on them centuries ago. Wont break the Lady of the Forest from her bonds. Being bound to a wolf, to the forest, to all around her. Suffering as the werewolves suffer, as the Rhyming Oak suffers.  
  
Mari felt sick hearing what happened to Zathrian's family, then even more sick hearing what he did to the Lady, how he created her from the forest. How he bound her to a body of a wolf, abusing her trust in him to kill all those who found his camp. Killing those who did nothing to him or the clan. Just like to them outside the Dalish camp. Mari felt sick when she flexed her stiff fingers between her knees.  
  
They had Morgan locked in another room as he turned, lashing out at everything around him as his mind and body started to shape. Mari was the first one he lashed out at when she kissed his forehead, grabbing her by the shoulder, sinking his nails in deep while she tried to break free at his growling snarling face. It, hurt, seeing him reduced to a mindless beast lashing out wildly.  
  
"You must bathe, young one. Will do you no good being covered in blood, lest you get sick."  
  
Mari chuckled darkly slowly lifting her head to the Lady, "I've been covered in worse."  
  
Lady shook her head at her, taking her hands in her branched fingers, "Come, Mari. There is little we can do until it breaks. We must find Zathrian, he must cure us, save them all. But we cannot do that until you are clean."  
  
She was right, would do her no good sitting there covered in Andraste's knows what while the others hunt Swiftrunner, while Morgan goes through the change. Mari sighs out softly taking the Lady's hand, and nods her head.  
  
The spirit was a kind soul, kind, warm and exceptionally beautiful. And the Keeper abused his own creation for his petty whims, abused this forest spirit to curse those who hurt his family. Mari understood the need for revenge, but to go this far? She could never do that.  
  
The Lady smiled softly at her when she rose stiffly from the ground, taking the spirits hand in hers as she was led to a bathing chamber. The spirit maybe nude, but she never looked it with her long black hair covering her voluptuous breasts, much like her own, vines and leaves skittered and danced around her covering and exposing her pale grey skin. Her deep black eyes were warm and inviting when Mari smiled softly back. To others, she may seem terrifying, but she was no-where _near_ terrifying, she was kind and gentle.  
  
Pinkeye was out looking for Alistair and the others, in-case they came back early and to bring them back here immediately. Natlie and Theron gone with a few others, to hunt Swiftrunner down on orders from the Lady, so he would never do this again to anyone else.  
  
But Mari, was alone here with Morgan locked in another room away from her.  
  
"It will be fine, Mari. Here," Lady took Mari's hand in hers, and kissed her cheek, "I know it is not much, but it will do. Bathe, young one, it will help."  
  
Mari sighed when the spirit left her to her own devices, looking about the spacious bathing chamber, a huge pool of water behind several divides for privacy. She wanted to snort at that, privacy, not like she wasn't near naked a few nights back with Morgan between her legs with who knows what watching. Or as Pinkeye said, watching and waiting for more fun times. Pervert.  
  
Mari's long black leather coat was ruined when she slipped it off, caked in blood and holes torn throughout it from Morgan and the Dalish. She would need a new vest and pants when she slipped off her boots. She would need an entire new set of clothing when she dumped everything on the floor, padding softly to the bathing pool in her underthings.  
  
The air was warm, the water was warmer when she knelt down, dipping her hand in the pool. Small wafts of steam rose from the water, making Mari wonder if it were a dwarven rune keeping the water warm, or if it were a natural hot-spring somewhere. Not like it mattered when she slid into the water making her hiss slightly as the warmth touched her skin. What mattered was  
getting the poxy supposed cure from a man bent on punishing anyone and everything around him. Much like Swiftrunner's hate for them all.  
  
Why, why did this have to happen now? The moment she finds someone she wants to spend the rest of her damn life with, and it gets taken away from her. The only person she has truly trusted to touch her in such ways, to touch and mould her skin. To feel her from within. Shes never felt more hurt and alone then she does right now, sitting in the warm water enveloping her with its watery embrace when she slips under the surface.  
  
If there ever was a thing of crying under water, Mari was doing it slipping further down. Air bubbles slowly popped on the surface as she screams and rages under the water, her fists clenched tight, shaking. She screamed till her lungs burned from the lack of air. She screamed more, pushing what was left out of her lungs, the bubbles furiously popping in the surface. Mari's vision swam the longer she stayed under the water, it swam as her body shook from the lack of air, her lungs burning more.  
  
Her mind dimmed slumping further under, dimmed and darkened as water filled her lungs pulling her deeper into the water.  
  
" **NO!** "  
  
Her body shuddered slightly slipping further down.  
  
" **HAWKE STOP!** "  
  
Mari's minded spun and swam when she was lifted out, water pouring out of her mouth being laid on her side. It was cold, she was cold, the stones were cold, everything was cold around her. She didn't care, but she was ashamed.  
  
"Can you hear me? Hawke, love, what were you thinking?"  
  
Mari coughed, water pouring out of her mouth more, trickling back into the warm inviting pool. She was cold, shamed, laying almost naked on the floor. Her mouth didn't work except to let a choked sob quietly escape her lips. Everything sounded muted, she felt muted, felt cold, shivering, being wrapped up in a blanket. _This isn't real._  
  
A gentle finger goes over her brow. "What were you thinking?" a quiet voice in her ear muttered, the breath warm on her neck.  
  
"I don't know," Mari whispered, "I wasn't."  
  
"Please, don't do that again."  
  
She shook her head against the warmth surrounding her. "Then don't die on me," she muttered out pushing her face into the warm blanket.  
  
"I am not dead. Look at me, open your eyes."  
  
Mari slowly blinked her eyes open, slowly tilting her face away from the warmth. Her eyes go a little wide sucking in a deep breath, at the werewolf looking down at her, his green flecked yellow eyes looking over her face in worry. Morgan had turned completely while she was trying to drown, literally, in her own misery. She wanted to cry at the black werewolf who was once Morgan, she wanted to cry even more when he ran a single claw down her cheek.  
  
"It will be fine, love. Trust me, trust the Lady. The others, they are coming here."  
  
"Alistair's going to kill you, you know that right?" Mari flinched at the pain in her lungs. "Your not stuttering either."  
  
Morgan scoffed shaking his head at her, "T'would do him no good, I'd kill him in an instant. I believe being shaped this way, stopped my awkward speech. Hawke, please, don't ever do that again."  
  
"Sorry. You attacked me by the way, Morgan."  
  
He hung his head in shame looking away from her, "I- I know. I tried to stop, but I could not. Everything was overpowering, everything. The smells, the feelings going through me. You."  
  
Mari frowned at him, "Me?"  
  
"Your scent was overwhelming through my nose. It, still is. I," Morgan chuckled looking back down at her, "want to mount you even more now."  
  
"Andraste's arse, seriously?"  
  
"You have no idea," he grinned leaning down, then ran his tongue over the shell of her ear. "Tis hard to resist you."  
  
Mari blushed hard, from her cheeks going down to the top of her breasts feeling his tongue go from ear to neck. Morgan nipped gently at her neck and grinned against when he picked her up, taking her out the bathing chamber to one of the spare rooms. Mari blushed even more when he kicked the door shut behind them, but was he seriously considering this while he was- he was turned?

_Andraste's pearly tits._  
  
"Morgan," she whispered to him, "Please tell me you not actually going to-"  
  
"You need to rest. I will be here next to you."  
  
Mari nodded her head when he puts her down on the bed, but still, her insides did flips as he laid next to her in this huge bloody werewolf form, his arm wrapping around her waist, his head over the top of hers. She had no idea what to think as her eyes got heavy, slipping off into a dream, tucking herself closer to the exceptionally soft Morgan.

* * *

  
"Mari! **MARI!** Where are-"  
  
"Do you never shut up, Templar," Morgan spat at Alistair, who decided barging in Mari's room was preferable then to knocking.  
  
Alistair sneered his lip looking up at Morgan, then scoffed pushing past the hulking werewolf, "Where is she?"  
  
"Not. Here." Morgan ground out through his teeth.  
  
The man was ten times even more infuriating being in this, state. His stench swirling around him like another piece of armour, another layer of filth that he is when the man barged past him again. But waking up to the heady smell that is Mari, her scent still lingering in his nostrils long after she went to speak with the Lady. He wanted nothing more to roll around in it, let his entire body get coated in it while he tested his wolven cock out.  
  
Morgan chuckled a little under his breath at that thought.  
  
"The fuck you laughing at, freak?"  
  
"Not you, tis for sure. Why do you need Hawke?" Morgan asked the man.  
  
Alistair rolled his eyes at him pointing to Pinkeye and a very battered Swiftrunner chained between him and Sten, "Thats why. Is Nat here? Theron then? No? Good talk freak."  
  
Morgan growled low in his throat at Swiftrunner, clenching his hands into fist as the other werewolf was taken away to a cell. He should be the one to take his life, but it wasn't up to him, it were up to the Lady to serve her judgement on him. Mari would no doubt rip his throat out as well, judging by the looks she was giving him in passing.  
  
" **MARI**! Maker, there you are," Alistair wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her cheek, much to the already aggravated Morgans annoyance, "We need to talk about something, preferably in private. I need your, um, opinion on a- on- we need to talk."  
  
"Can it...wait- Alistair what happened to your face?"  
  
"I, um, yeah can we seriously talk in private?"  
  
Morgan growled again in his throat at Alistair, whatever this talk was, he wanted to be there for it. He wasn't going to leave her alone with the man, not to the fact he could smell the mans arousal going through him like stale a stench. Even if the man had a half chewed lip and a bandage around his hand. Morgan growled even more when Alistair took Mari's arm literally dragging her away from him.  
  
"Leave her **ALONE!** " Morgan roared leaping onto the Ex-Templars back, pinning him to the floor, "I will not have you take her away!"  
  
"Get the fuck off me, freak!" Alistair struggled underneath him, kicking out with his legs trying to catch his own.  
  
Morgan lent down to Alistair's ear and hissed in it, "Tell her here, where I can see."  
  
"No. I wont."  
  
"She is **MY MATE!** Mine, not yours! Do not think I cannot smell your filthy arousal, **TEMPLAR!** "  
  
Alistair flinched under Morgan, no longer struggling but going limp, Morgan wondered why when the Templar sucked in a deep breath.  
  
"It's not about her," Alistair whispered, "It's about me. Trust me on that, freak. Maker, I need to talk to her, please. You can listen if you want, but I need to talk to Mari first."  
  
Morgan got off Alistair's back, looking over at Mari. He realised what he said when he looks at her face. He called her his mate, his. And did that ever feel odd when he lowers his head. This, werewolf thing was doing nothing to hide his emotions from her, nothing. His need to protect was even more worse now as he followed the Ex-Templar and Mari to her room. What was so important that the man needed Mari so, even with the stench of arousal? Not like his own was anything to go by when he quickly looked over at Mari. Oh how he wanted to taste every piece of her with his tongue. Every single piece of flesh, marking it all as his.  
  
"So, yeah I have a problem."  
  
"Judging by your face, I say you have a large problem. What in Andraste's filly knickers happened?"  
  
Morgan watched Alistair's shoulders slump a little, putting his sword and shield on the table with her books, "I, had a crisis of mortality. I don't want to die, then I did after what I found out. But yet- Maker- Mari, I'm in love, okay."  
  
"With Nat? I thought you two-"  
  
"No, not her. I was never in love with her. I should never of- we should never- I don't want her."  
  
Mari raised an eyebrow at Morgan who in turn shrugged as he sat down, "Then who?"  
  
" **SHUT. UP. FREAK!** I'm not Maker well talking you, am I? Let me talk to Mari first, _THEN_ ," Alistair raised his finger at Morgan, "you can add your fucking piece. Okay."  
  
"Alistair, enough. If Morgan wants to add, let him add. And make some damn sense will you," Mari sat on the edge of the table looking at both himself and the Templar.  
  
Alistair's shoulders slump again as he lent on the wall behind him, running his bandaged hand down his face, "We went to Denerim to find my so called sister, only to find, she wasn't my sister at all. She was looking for her own brother called Alistair, not me. But, she said I looked noble borne, I don't think I do. Neither me nor Anders do, but apparently we do."  
  
Alistair shook his head, "Look, my dads from the Free Marches somewhere, I don't know where. He may of been lying about that all I know. He may or may not be dead, but I don't think he is. I hope he is, he beat me and Anders shitless sometimes before he gave us both up. But anyway," Alistair shook his head again, "Faith wanted to talk to me while I was having a, um, fit, I suppose. And, he spoke to me again..."  
  
"And- Alistair whats this got to do with your face? You need me to heal it?" Mari asked quietly.  
  
"No, yes, I mean yes, heal me please. But let me finish too. I just-" he sighed looking at Morgan while Mari healed his busted lip, "Can spirits fall in love?"  
  
Morgan stood up out of his chair and shut the door so no-one else could hear. He lent his head on the wood and sighed out himself, "It can happen. You are talking about Faith, are you not, Templar."  
  
"Let me finish. He, we spoke. I never felt anything like it before. I mean it's not like we haven't spoken before. Maker, after Wynne died and Faith saved her by accident, I, sort of stopped sleeping around the tower. But, we kissed, in the fade, and it was _amazing_."  
  
Alistair blushed bright crimson when Mari let her hands drop suddenly from his face, Morgan sighed out again pushing away from the door. "Tis why you are aroused. You, are in love with Faith also. T'would seem you are in a quandary, Templar. Is Faith not bound to Wynne?"  
  
"Thats the thing. Hes going to die with Wynne, whenever that maybe. Might be any day now all I know. Maker, I don't know what to do. I really don't. I'm going to loose everything again, everything. Death will always follow me, death and Maker fucking misery," Alistair slumped all the way down the wall putting his head in his hands, "But that's not all."  
  
"Oh, of course not," Mari snarked sitting back on the edge of the table, "You going to tell us who your related too now? If you say fucking Cailan, I'm walking out the damn room."  
  
Alistair chuckled mirthlessly, "So yeah, heres the th-"  
  
Mari got up slamming the door behind her as she walked out.  
  
"Shit."  
  
"T'would seem you are full of more mysteries then a puzzle box, Templar," Morgan smirked at him. "I thought you said you were not related to a king."  
  
"I never said that. I just- it- ahh fucking hell, yes I'm related to Maric and Cailan and so is my damn brother. He's, Maric I mean, was our uncle. Dad made it plain that neither me or Anders had any sort of, you know, claim to any of that. If you even think about," Alistair glared at Morgan, "saying I should go for the throne, you can suck my damn balls. **NO WAIT**... please don't."  
  
"Never crossed my mind. Not my type," Morgan grinned. "T'was not going to suggest you take the throne. Be a little hard to pick up, would it not?"  
  
Alistair raised an eyebrow at him, then smirked as his shoulders shook shaking his head, "OH Maker, did you just joke with me? I need to mark that on the calender. But seriously though, I'm an Ex-Templar, as well as a Grey Warden, who's in love with the spirit of Faith, who's a beaten abused piece of shit human, who has nothing to give nobody and I end up taking my shit out with everyone. So, sorry?"  
  
"I will take that, for now. T'was inevitable the truth would come out soon, Templar."  
  
"Yeah I know, I keep hoping Redcliffe's gone so I don't have to say a bloody word. I don't want the poxy fucking throne, Anders is a mage so he's out. I don't even CARE about any of that, means nothing to me, you know. My brother means more to me. My friends and family thats left, mean more to me. And thank fuck your not stuttering any more, was driving me insane, freaky."  
  
Morgan cocked his head, walking slowly over to the Templar, "Then, t'would seem we should keep this among us. I will not breath a word. Neither will Mari. Will you?"  
  
Alistair frowned looking about himself, "She's not in here."  
  
"Eyesight, Templar," Morgan chuckled holding Mari in his arms as she purred, "She never actually left."  
  
**'Mew'**  
  
"Maker fuck you both and your bloody shapeshifting, magic, bullshit!"

* * *

  
Night fell slowly when they left the ruins to find the others. Eight days they spent within the ruins, four of those were of him changing, three were helping Mari and the Lady coordinate an attack if they find Zathrian and his Dalish clan. And one whole day helping Mari out of her depression when she nearly drowned. Morgan hated that. He hated the fact Swiftrunner forced this upon him, nearly taking Mari away from him.  
  
That will never happen again. Ever.  
  
Even if Zathrian refuses to cure them or their forced to kill him before it could happen, he could learn to live like this happily if needs be. Mari, on the other hand wasn't so sure on the idea if and when, they finally laid together properly, that he would be a werewolf doing so.  
  
It was hard to resist her scent with how close they got sometimes. Lingering in his nose long after she went, making his entire body ache from head to toe, almost vibrating at the need, and the overwhelming need to protect. And that was the thing, protect her from what? _Himself? Others? His mother?_  
  
Morgan shook his head when he dipped down behind a bush to hide. Maybe this is what love truly was, to protect the one you love. Those books Natlie gave Mari didn't exactly help in those matters, just made him even more aroused flicking through the pictured pages. There were so many things one could do with a body: touching, not touching, bound...  
  
"Up ahead," Pinkeye muttered next to him, "you smell it?"  
  
"Natlie, Theron and, your brethren."  
  
Pinkeye nodded his head then smirked at him, "You know I was a dwarf once, right? Fuckin' first time on the surface too and look where I am now."  
  
"How long ago?" Morgan tilted his head at Pinkeye. He could smell old stale beer on the grizzled albino, stale beer and mud, "T'was your name before?"  
  
"Oghren," Pinkeye snorted, "Drunken sot of a dwarf, leaving ma wife behind when she went mad. Was a warrior caste too, fuckin' fat lot that did me fer sure. Hated Orzammar, hate the surface less then that pit of shit."  
  
"Did Swiftrunner-"  
  
Pinkeye snorted again nudging Morgans shoulder, "Naw, nother set of werewolves near Orzammar. Found ma way here by accident, Lady took me in bout twelve years back now. I ain't gonna be cured, lad, I like it this way. That pack though, didn't last long. I didn't kill 'em neither did other cloudgazers, humans did instead. Shame, was a really pretty grey lass I liked."  
  
"If given a chance, would you join us Pinkeye?" Mari asked quietly next to them when she crept up.  
  
"What? Fight against tha Blight? Fuck yeah I would. Dunno how that would go when I stroll through yer cities, girl."  
  
Mari smirked shaking her head at him, "With Sten in tow, I highly doubt they'd give a shit."  
  
"Got a point there, girl," Pinkeye snorted again, "Yeah, I'd go with yer lot. Kinda getting bored pissing up trees."  
  
Morgan dipped his head at the older werewolf and looked ahead again through the bush. He was missing his hood something fierce, something to hide his face behind when things got well over his head, but being deep black, being easy to hide in the shadows, hiding his face, was a little easier. But alas, his hooded tunic was in tatters, least his leathers survived the onslaught from Swiftrunner. He could still wear those if and when he changed back.  
  
Hmm, he did wonder if it were possible to shapeshift this form, seeing as he is beginning to know it well when they all step through the bush when Nat and Theron signal them to come forth. Would be interesting to find out if he could, yes he definitely wanted to find out if he could when Nat grinned up at him.  
  
"Salroka."  
  
"Little thief," he smirked down at her.  
  
"Nugspit, your too sodding tall now. Mari, help a dwarf out here!"  
  
Morgan stifled a laugh when Mari jumped on Nat's shoulder as her cat, purring loudly rolling her head around in her friends hair while Nat grinned even more.  
  
"Thats more like it. So," Nat rolled her shoulders heaving out a sigh, "we can't find that nughumper anywhere. He's probably gone underground, _OR_ ," Nat shook her head looking up at both Morgan and Pinkeye, "he's dead. Can't find hide nor nugs tail of the rest of his clan either."  
  
"I can't smell 'em anywhere. Somethings fuckin' goin' on here. Think they fled out tha Brecilian?" Pinkeye looked at Theron, "Naw not likely. Bloody tree huggers, like sniffing round my favourite spots, huntin' us down."  
  
Morgan sighed out a little miserably looking at Mari now in Nat's arms. It's not what he wanted to hear when they walked to the camp the others set up. But Pinkeye was right, he couldn't smell them anywhere around them, they may of fled further in the forest, or they fled out of it because of the Wardens.  
  
Out of it...  
  
"T'would they head to the Bannorn forest?" he asked Theron.  
  
Theron's eyebrows slowly creep up his forehead, then blinked a few times as his mouth dropped, " **SHIT!** " he shouted, " **SHIT SHIT SHIT!** Clan Sabrae would of headed that way!"  
  
"Why go that way, kid? Though," Pinkeye growled low in his throat, "make sense. Get outta here, confuse us while they fuck off. Son of a _NUG!_ "  
  
Pinkeye stormed off to talk to his fellow brethren, Morgan knew this would be their last chance if Zathrian and his clan did go that way. The werewolves numbers here were dwindling as time went on, just over a hundred of them left. Men, women, even children hauled up in the filthy Tevinter elven ruins. Children. Morgan couldn't wrap his head around that one. Some were turned out of spite from Swiftrunner apparently, others where borne to those who were left. He wondered if they would be normal again if the cure worked, or would they remain werewolf. He then wondered what would happen if he and Mari had-  
  
Why was he thinking of that? That... scared the Blight out of him if that happened. Would his mother try and take their child away if they had one? Would it be half wolf? His heart raced in his chest as he looked over at Mari. He needed to go think on his own for a while, he needed to think about all of this when he turned tail back into the thickets.  
  
Mari told him every mage knew how to, protect, from accidental births even in the tower, but doesn't always work. As Wynne told him in private, it doesn't always work. It didn't stop the sadness seep from the old womans eyes when she spoke of it quietly with him before coming here, as they sorted through the books from the keep.  
  
_'I, had a son,' she told him taking his hands in hers, 'he was taken away from me before I could see him. The birth... there were complications, I was in pain. I haven't seen him in nearly thirty years, I have no idea if he's dead or a live, dear.'_  
  
_'Why, would they d-d-do that to you?' he asked her, not understanding why they would do such a thing._  
  
_'Because accidental babies in the tower is a no-no, dear. Not as if we didn't seek each other for company to read a book,' Wynne smiled at him then sighed, 'It was a long time ago, and I'm old. But as I said before, it doesn't always work, even the herbal tea doesn't always stop births. It happens, thats the nature of things.'_  
  
Morgan sat down on a fallen tree, staring down at the ground, his fingers twitching on his thighs as he thought more.  
  
He would never be the type of person his mother was to him, being beaten, abused while she shouted at him for being useless, belittling him for being nothing, taking him away from Lothering when he ventured there. He would never be that person if he had a child, he would embrace them, teach them like she never would for him. He, would be the father he never had to his child if it were to come to that, if they were to have one.  
  
Tis still early days yet, but does not mean he couldn't plan in-case, like he's never been able to before.  
  
"I need to tell yer something, lad."  
  
Pinkeye's voice behind him made him jump a little, turning his head to watch the grizzled werewolf sit down next to him.  
  
"To what do you need,to talk about?"  
  
"Look lad, I need yer to keep quiet bout this, okay. It's about Natlie," Pinkeye bowed his head a little and sighed loudly, "I knew her mother, very well. A drunken Dusttown whore, sold herself out for her next drink."  
  
Morgan tilted his head in confusion, then, a dawning realisation struck him at Pinkeyes face, "Nat, is your daughter?"  
  
"Yeh. Didn't click till she said her last name. Brosca, her mother was Kalah, got 'nother daughter, Rica. Both... are mine, lad, both of them."  
  
"You, cheated on your wife, with Nat's mother?" Morgan frowned even more looking over the older wolfs sullen face.  
  
"Pah, she was a mosslicker. Dunno why I even married that mad bitch of a dwarf. Oh yeh thats right," Pinkeye snorted shaking his head, "Paragon. Invented smokeless fuel, rose to be a fuckin living Paragon. So," Pinkeye rolled his eye, "I got lumped with that bitch, all cos I was strong warrior. She was more interested in women, fuckin mosslicker."  
  
Pinkeye waved his hand when Morgan went to reply, "Ain't done yet, lad. I need yer to keep this quiet fer now. She's got enough on her nughumping plate as it is, poor girl thinks she's younger then she is. She ain't. Twenty-six years ago now I met Kalah, not half bad lookin' dwarf at the time, then Branka happened. Had to keep the whole thing quiet, dun think she even remembers me anyway."  
  
"Why tell me? Mari coul-"  
  
"Yer dun understand lad, I can see that look you have. You want pups right?"  
  
Morgan felt the heat go over his face when he looked away, how did he know? "Tis, a difficult subject, Pinkeye. I- I do not know if- I mean-," he shakes his head looking back at the older werewolf, "My mother is Flemeth, an unkind witch of a woman. T'would not want my children, if I were to have them, be under her influence. Or for her to find out."  
  
" _HAH_ , shows yer what you know, lad. Means yer gonna be a great dad, unlike me, who had to watch at a distance at the nuglets growing up without me."  
  
"Tis all subject right now, Pinkeye. We have the Blight to deal with, and my condition," Morgan lets his head drop again, thrumming his fingers on his thighs, "Tis still early days to say the least."  
  
Pinkeye snorted out loud at him, putting his smaller arm around Morgan's shoulders and whispered in his ear, "Love at first sight, is the best kind of love. If I were a better man, I would of stayed with Kalah and the girls. But I ain't, I was a drunken fuckin' sot myself, a useless fuckin' warrior caste dwarf, now I'm a better werewolf cos of all that. Dun let it slip past yer, lad, trust me on that."  
  
"Are you two bonding over there?" Mari chuckled behind the bush, "because we're leaving at first light. Lady will be joining us, so will everyone else."  
  
"Remember what I said, lad," Pinkeye whispered to him before rising, "don't let it slip yer by, you'll regret it later, trust me."  
  
Morgan nodded his head mutely, watching Pinkeye snicker at Mari ruffling her hair as he went back to join the others. Mari raised an eyebrow at him and he couldn't help the smirk that went across his face when he tapped his thigh for her to sit on. Being a hulking werewolf had its advantages, when she sat on it shaking her head at him, he was almost twice the size as he would be previous when he wrapped his arms around her shoulders as he went backwards off the fallen tree, grinning when she squealed a little at it.  
  
"I want you to read my mothers Grimoire. I want you to see what I had to deal with."  
  
Mari leaned up on his chest frowning, "Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes. Never more sure then I am now."

* * *

* * *

* * *

**Thirteen. The Spirit Of Vengeance.**

The entire contingent of werewolves followed behind Natlie and the others, even the Lady seethed in anger strolling through the outskirts of the Bannorn forest. Morgan was right, Zathrian and his Dalish clan had fled there, confusing the werewolves and themselves as they searched through the Brecilian.  
  
A select few wolves went scouting, their best, seeking where the clan had actually set up camp again. Theron gave them several places that they could be throughout the place. Though, Mari thought looking at the young elf, she knew he was worried about his old clan if they were still here, or had go north like the markers had shown them coming out from the Brecilian, from another clan.  
  
All they could do was sit and wait until the scouts came back with news, which might give her time to skim through Flemeth's old Grimoire.  
  
Mari felt uneasy with the Grimoire tucked in her pack. The more it traveled with her out the Brecilian, the more uneasy she got with it on her back. Morgan wanted absolutely nothing to do with it any more, and judging by the look on his face when he kicked it out of his pack to her, she didn't know whether she wanted to find out what was within the heavy tome. But she needed to read it, to find out why.  
  
"Salroka, got a few?"  
  
Mari smiled down at her friend and nodded her head.  
  
"Good, cos, I need to talk to you badly about something."  
  
"Nat, you know you can talk to me about anything," Mari tugged on Nat's newly cut hair, "spill the dirt."  
  
Natlie tugged on her hand to move away from everyone as they walked through the Bannorn to the campsite, "It's about Pinkeye," she murmured up at Mari.  
  
Mari frowned down at her friend, "What about him? Has he do-"  
  
"No, I know who he is, Salroka."  
  
"Nat? Whats going on?"  
  
Natlie sighed letting go of Mari's hand to run both of hers down her face before resting against a tree, "He thinks I don't know. I know his voice anywhere," Natlie shrugged dropping her hands to her side, "He used to see my mum, a lot, and then he stopped about ten or so years ago, I think. Nugspit, too long ago."  
  
Mari frowned even more at Nat when she slumped down on the ground, "I don-"  
  
"He's my dad."  
  
"I thought you didn't know who he was, Nat," Mari hissed squatting down in-front of her friend, "Is he Rica's dad too?"  
  
Natlie shrugged and nodded at the same time, "Yeah. Didn't figure it out until I heard his name: Oghren. Mum talked shit about him a lot when I was growing up, cursed his name when she got steamed, you know. But it's his voice, I know it is."  
  
"Oh Nat," Mari whispered as tears rolled down her face, she brought her friend in hard for a hug kissing the top of her head as she sobbed on Mari's shoulder, "I'm so sorry."  
  
"I don't wanna tell him I know. I don't wanna to have to worry about the old nugfucker, I really don't. But I will, I just know it."  
  
Mari chuckled a little wiping the tears from Nat's face with the her fingers, "Your going to have to a some point. A werewolf and his daughter fighting against the Blight? You know how awesome of a story thats going to be? A really fucking awesome one, Nat."  
  
"Salroka, seriously?" Nat snorted at her, "I just dunno if he even cares."  
  
"He does, little thief. More then you know. T'would seem," Morgan crouched down next to them, "you two need to talk. I suggest now, rather then later."  
  
"Dammit Morgan, I hate it when you bloody do that!"  
  
Morgan snorted a laugh bringing them both in for a hug, "Tis the nature of a wolf, love."  
  
"Nugspit, if you two are gonna get all frisky, let me go huh? I need to talk to my dad," Nat giggled trying to squirm out from them both hugging her tighter, "Oh come ON!"  
  
"Fine," Mari smirked letting the squirming dwarf go, only to have Morgan pounce on her when Nat ran off, "To repeat Nat: Oh come on!"  
  
Morgan grinned wide from on-top of her, her bloody pack digging in hard against her back being pinned to the ground. Mari tried to squirm herself only to be pinned even harder on the ground as Morgan began to pant heavily, his eyes dilating to almost black when he licks up the side of her neck.  
  
"I need you," he murmurs in her ear before running his tongue over it, " _please_ ," he practically whined.  
  
Mari stiffened, swallowing loudly when he started to paw at her pants trying to undo them. She, couldn't when she turned her head from him. Not like this, Andraste's sword, "Not like this," she choked out.  
  
Morgan stilled his pawing, his fingers twitching on her hips as he sucked in a breath through his teeth, "Tis because I am a werewolf," he muttered lowering his head.  
  
"No," Mari shook her head then sighed, "Yes, I don't know. Look, we're in the middle of the bloody woods with the others running about, in the damn open. My packs digging into my back, and isn't this, um, bestiality? I," Mari sighed again looking away, "I'm terrified. Andraste's arse."  
  
"As you should be, Shemlen."  
  
Mari and Morgan looked quickly over the voice coming through the thicket at them, a tall bald elf with eyes of pure fire and hate snarled loud at them both, "Filth. Both of you. Both your kind are. Nothing but filthy animals spreading your disease. I should of killed her before things got worse, now I'm the one suffering for it as you butcher my flock."  
  
"Zathrian," Morgan snarled at the elf trying to move from Mari, but she realised neither of them could move when she struggled against an invisible bond.  
  
" **LET US GO!** " Mari yelled at the bald headed elf as he stalked forward more, "Your killing them and for what, a few hundred years vendetta?"  
  
" **ENOUGH!** " Zathrian shouted, slamming his staff on the ground shaking the entire forest around them, "You were _NOT_ there when the Shem raped my daughter, killed my son. You were _NOT_ there when I protected my flock, my children from **FILTH LIKE YOU!** Never again."  
  
The tall elf pointed his staff at them both, his eyes enraged and insane when he snarled his face up, "I will have Witherfang, I will kill her," he laughed out madly, "I will kill you all, flock or no. Now perish, filth."  
  
Blood pours from the gash on Zathrian's wrist when he sliced it open, letting it pour out everywhere on the ground before slamming his staff down, setting the trees alight around them. The blood twisted and writhed along the ground like a thousand snakes, coming closer to the bound pair. Mari snarled her own lip up at the same time as Morgan, her fingers twitching against the restraint, then grinned when she turned the tide of the writhing mass back to Zathrian, but not the fire.  
  
"Next time," she smirked out at the elf's face, "make sure you know who your up against."  
  
Zathrian wrinkled his nose up slamming his staff down again negating the his own spell, "Pathetic," he spat, "playing with magic beyond your ken. Now burn."  
  
The elf turned around and left them laying there, bound on the ground as the trees catch fire more. Mari couldn't do anything about that and neither could Morgan as the heat started to prick against her skin. Andraste's fucking tits, this was not how she wanted to die when she looked back up at Morgan, but at least she would die with the man she fucking well loved. She shook her head slowly when tears welled up in her eyes, "I'm sorry," she whispered to Morgan, "I'm so sorry."  
  
"For what love?" he whispered back at her, the heat from the fire getting closer to them, the sounds of the forest creaking and groaning under the strain of the fire.  
  
"That I never said I loved you. You call me love, but I never-" Mari choked back a sob, "I love you."  
  
Morgan smiled softly down at her, closing his eyes. "And I you," he murmured opening his eyes again, "always."  
  
Mari allowed him to slip his long tongue in her mouth when he licked her lips, the trees around them cracked loudly, and sighed letting her eyes slip closed as they fell on-top of them.

* * *

  
"Soooo, Pinkeye," Nat smiled at him when she sat down, "Can I call you Pinkeye, or will dad do?"  
  
The white werewolf sputtered at her, blinking rapidly, then slowly, ever so slowly started to grin wide at her, "Nugshit, so you know huh? Who told ya?"  
  
"I figured it out, you bloody old fucking _NUG!_ Don't think I never heard your voice before, nor your sodding name, Oghren. She never stopped spouting on about you when she was drunk, well, always drunk. Nughumping bitch. So, why'd you leave huh?"  
  
Natlie needed to know why her own father left her and Rica behind, why he never stayed. She knew he watched too, the bloody red haired warrior, always watching from a distance, always. She rolled her eyes at herself. Obvious why he left, seeing as he's a bloody werewolf now.  
  
"Had to, nuglet. Got palmed off to Branka when she got named Paragon, old house got dissolved into hers, then went stark raving mad bout some fuckin', Anvil. Yer mother, Kalah and I, we, well, we still did it, you know, off the books and the like. Was never allowed to see either of yer again," Pinkeye sighed shaking his head, "I got exiled when I made a fuss bout Branka and the fuckin'' provings bein' fixed, and well, here I am after twelve years."  
  
"Yeah, I did the provings, proving all the deep lords they were wrong about us brands," Nat snickered then snickered even more at her fathers face, "Not joking either. I beat them all wearing someone else's armour. Beraht forced me an Leske into killing another just so he could fix it, I just did the opposite. Though, I nearly got executed cos of it. Duncan saved me from that, made me a Grey Warden. So, how old am I then? I think I'm twenty-one, or am I older, bitch humper never really said."  
  
Pinkeye snorted, then threw his head back and laughed even louder, slapping Nat's arm, " _HEH HEH HEH!_ Thats ma girl, fuckin' stick it up at them! Pah, yer twenty-five, nuglet, met yer mother twenty-six years ago. Yer sister should be the one who's twenty-one. Stones, seems a long time ago now. Yer here now, so am I," Pinkeye nodded at her.  
  
Natlie smiled wide when he brought her in for a hug, she smiled so wide she thought her face would crack in half when he snorted against her hair. After all this time, after all shes been through, wondering who her sodding father was, and here he was on the surface. Nugshit, she never really put two and two together until a few days ago when she heard his name, heard him speak. She's never felt better when they started laughing again.  
  
Mari was right, werewolf father and daughter going up against the Blight would definitely be one sod of a story. And then there was Mari and Morgan- Nat frowned when she pulled away from her father, looking about herself. They should be here, why isn't Mari here with her nearby? Wheres Morgan? They wouldn't of-  
  
" **FIRE! OH MAKER FIRE!** " one of the werewolves shouted and pointed further away from them, and Nat's heart sank.  
  
He was pointing right where she left both of them.  
  
"Oh no," she muttered scrabbling out from her fathers hug, "no."  
  
Fear and dread went through her when she ran off with her father towards the fire, the heat, even from this distance was getting to her. She grabbed her fathers hand as they ran further into the forest, others not too far behind them. She hoped to everything they were alright, that- that-  
  
Her heart sank even more when she spotted collapsed trees right where they should be, right under where they were.  
  
" **NO!** " she shouted pulling out of her fathers grip, feeling the sick burn right up her throat looking at the pile of burning trees. " **NONONONONONO, NUGSHIT NO!** "  
  
"Nat, whats going on?"  
  
She looked up at Alistair and Theron when they came running over looking at the burning forest, then threw up everywhere when she collapsed on the ground. Her head spun the more she threw up, spun and swam when she slapped someones hand away. She didn't care, her friends were dead under all that. Mari, was dead. Morgan, was dead. Both, "dead, oh nugshit, their both dead!"  
  
"Who, wh- _oh no_ ," Alistair muttered looking back at the pile of burnt wood. "Oh Mari," he whispered out kneeling down to Nat.  
  
"Zathrian. That son of a nug killed them both. I can smell him, I can taste him," Pinkeye growled out low from his throat, "I'm gonna rip that nugfucker in half."  
  
"Can you track him?" Theron asked the grizzled albino through grit teeth, "Because I want to rip him in half too. Killing my Fen. My friends."  
  
"Yea, I can track him alright. Get the others, we're going huntin'"  
  
Natlie's head swam again looking up at her father seething next to her, his fists clenched tight as he barked orders at the others. Alistair and Theron had ran off themselves go gather the rest of their friends, but Nat, choked on her vomit and sobs as she stared at the pile of now burnt trees where her best friends were. This wasn't supposed to of happened, they were supposed to have gotten married, ran off together, had loads of baby nugs together, not this, never this.  
  
Now they were nothing but a pile of burnt dirt, Nat's heart broke even more when she howled in pain at it. They were supposed to finish this Blight with her, they were supposed to help her, be here with her. They were supposed to have a happy ever after, and now, there would never be. None of them would. Even with her dad bringing her into a crushing hug, picking her up and taking her away couldn't stop the howling pain ripping through her, couldn't stop the hot stinging tears falling down her face.  
  
"We'll make him pay, nuglet. We'll make them all pay," Pinkeye muttered in her hair. "They wont of died fer nothin'. We'll make sure their remembered."  
  
Natlie felt numb when she nodded her head mutely into his fur, she felt numb and in pain. Her chest hurt so much it felt like it was going to burst. Her eyes were so blurred she couldn't see out of them. Her arms and legs felt heavy when her father put her down in the camp. Her body ached with grief as it shook by the fire. And she howled again slamming her fists on the ground in rage and pain.  
  
She'll kill this fucking nugfucker herself. She'll make him pay for what he's done. She'll kill him slowly, painfully, make him scream out and beg when she finds him. _Oh_ , she'll make him beg like the coward he is when she stands up. She may feel numb inside, but the pain and rage she was feeling went over everything else, when she walked off into the woods alone.

She'll find him all by herself, kill them all.  
  
Nothing and nobody was going to stop her when she slipped into the shadows. Cure be damned, he just killed her friends, she'll kill him and his nugshitting clan on her own.  
  
Natlie's mind twitched the further she went, it twitched and itched. Felt like it did back in the mage tower when it twitched again, right before the whole fade shit she went through. Her skin crawled the deeper she went, skirting around fallen trees. It crawled again as her mind and body twitched, rage rolling through her limbs pushing her forward. Nothing was going to stop her. Nothing.  
  
Every single part of her twitched the more she walked, from her toes to her head, twitching and writhing. Anger rolling through her stomach to her throat when she screamed into the dark around her, anger and rage. She has never felt his angry in her life, never. Not even when Beraht tried to force himself on her, when she found her sister employed as a noble hunter under him. Not even the time when her mum beat her black and blue did she feel this angry. Not even the time she made her first kill, slicing the Dusters neck open because he wouldn't pay up.  
  
Someone was behind her, but she didn't care, she was too angry to care. Natlie's entire body shook from rage, shook, rattled with every step.  
  
"Are you alone? All on your own here? You shouldn't be alone, little dwarf."  
  
"The nugshit?" Natlie flinched looking about herself, looking for the voice and the footfalls behind her.  
  
"Look harder," the voice laughed.  
  
Natlie frowned, wrinkling her nose up, pulling her daggers free from her hips pointing them at nothing around her. "Not in the mood for games, forest. Fuck off."  
  
"Ahhh, how you seethe with anger and revenge, tis intoxicating. But alas, your a dwarf. And not my type."  
  
"Whats that got to do with nugspit?" she looked about herself more, seeing absolutely nothing around her. But the hairs on her arms and neck told another story, feeling a cold seep into her as a breeze blew across her skin.  
  
"Dwarves and the fade do not mix. Spirits and dwarves do not mix either," the voice snorted at her. "Oh well. Perhaps a little show might assuage your... fears."  
  
" **I AIN'T GOT TIME FOR THIS!** " Natlie shouted storming off again. She really had no time for games when she sheath's her daggers back on her hips. She was in no mood for anything when a hand grabbed hers, making her stumble backwards onto her bottom.  
  
"But I do. Let me come with you, doing this on your own is just foolish, little dwarf."  
  
Natlie curled her lip when she looked up, and curled it even more at the figure with his hands on his hips smirking at her. His full plate armour as dark as night when she looked over it quickly before shaking her head. "Piss off," she muttered at him, "I can do this on my own, Don't need you, or anyone else helping me kill this nugfucker."  
  
"I beg to differ, little dwarf. Do you know how many he has with him?" he snorted at her waving his hand further into the forest, "You'd be dead within an instant."  
  
The older man bent down grinning from ear to ear at her when he snorts again, "You need to go back for the other two friends you left behind. Silly girl. Their still alive, you know, under all that. You need your friends, little dwarf, and I am coming with you."  
  
"No their not," Natlie shook her head storming off again in the direction he waved at. "Their both dead. No-one can survive that. Not even-" Nat stopped bowing her head as more tears rolled down her cheeks, " _shit_."  
  
"Shit indeed. Now," the man chuckled taking her hand in his, "we got two people to dig out and save. And I'm just itching to get my hands on Zathrian and his pet Dalish, little dwarf. Oh, and I get to say hello to my brother Faith."  
  
Natlie screwed up her face at the man pulling her back to where Mari and Morgan are. There's no way they could of survived any of that, no way. And- wait-  
  
"Faith is your... Who the nugshit are you?" she yanked her hand free from the man.  
  
"Vengeance," the man smirked down at her, "Spirit of Vengeance, little dwarf. Faith isn't exactly my actual brother, but we do come from the fade you know. Look, we do not have time to stand around talking about this." Vengeance rolled his eyes walking ahead of her, "Their not going to be able to free themselves."  
  
She growled in frustration under her breath catching him up. "Fucking, nugshitting, **GAH!** " she threw her hands up in the air and ran off back to Mari and Morgan.  
  
"I've been in the fade before. Hated it," she shook her head, "Stupid sodding demons trying to eat me and my friends. Dunno how humans and elves put up with it."  
  
"They don't, so they get killed or turn into hideous creatures," Vengeance shook his whole body beside her, "Disgusting really. Ahh, here we are."  
  
Vengeance smirked looking over the burnt trees around them, waving his hand over at the pile where Mari and Morgan were. "T'would suggest gathering your other friends, but there really isn't going to be time," he chuckled out, "So, give me a hand, please."  
  
Natlie rolled her own eyes as the man-spirit started pulling the burnt trees out the way. She had no idea what to think about all of this when she dove in, pulling smaller logs away from the pile. How in the name of everything did this, thing find her? A damn spirit no less in the middle of the Bannorn, just happened to find her. She shook her head again pulling another log from the pile, getting covered in soot and who knows what.  
  
Vengeance on the other hand was grinning away at her. "Thats the spirit," he laughed out when she glared at him, "Ahh, come now little dwarf, tis not that bad."  
  
"Stop calling me little dwarf you fucking nugshitter. I have a bloody name."  
  
"Yes you do. To which I don't know," he smirked at her, "So tell me, what is it."  
  
"Natlie Brosca or Nat," she rolled her eyes more climbing over a partially burnt tree, "If you know Faith, then you should know all our names."  
  
"Nope, I don't. Just watched and waited, seeing what would happen. Guess I made a miscalculation," he snorted, "whoops."  
  
Natlie stopped what she was doing and looked over her shoulder slowly at him, "You, watched? You fucking **WAITED!** The shits wrong with you?"  
  
Vengeance shrugged going back to what he was doing, "Did not think this would happen. Did not think the elf would go this far. Took me by surprise thats for sure. Petty hate is just that, petty hate. Vengeance on the other hand, oh, it can be ever so sweet when you have it," he grinned at her, "but then the moment passes and your left sitting there wondering, _'why did I do that?'_ "  
  
A low rumble under her feet made her stop, dropping the small branch back down on the ground. Another rumble made her pull everything out faster, hearing coughing and spluttering. A furry ear came into view making her cry again as another was freed with Vengeance wrinkling his nose up pulling more away.  
  
"See, told you," he smirked at her.  
  
"Mari? **MARI, MORGAN!** " she felt her self shout and heard a faint reply of _'yes'_ back at her, "Oh thank every sodding nug I've ever eaten your alive."  
  
Vengeance put his hand up at her, "I suggest you step back. Their bound and cannot move. Excuse me," he looked down the hole at the two people below and grinned at a pair of odd eyes looking up at him in awe. "Well, hello there. But anyway hold still, I can break the bond. Though t'will hurt when I remove it."  
  
Nat nodded her head, stumbling away from the man-spirit when he raised his hands. She watched in rapt awe as they burned deep blue, little trickles going across his skin, his eyes burning as bright as any magic Mari has ever done, then covered her own at a flash of light.  
  
"There, now try and move. Carefully though, tis going to be sore. I hate filthy blood magic, makes my spirity skin crawl," she hears him laugh out.  
  
A loud growl and a shout of **'what in the void!'** made her open her eyes as Morgan pinned Vengeance down, growling hard in his throat. "And who are you? Are you with _HIM!_ " Morgan growled at the spirit.  
  
"Ugh, no. Found her wondering by herself in the forest, silly girl," Vengeance waved a hand over at Nat. "Mind getting off me, your rather heavy."  
  
"Not until-"  
  
"Vengeance, dear werewolf, my name is Vengeance. Though you may call me whatever you like." Vengeance chuckled up at Morgan, "But I do suggest you get off me. You have work to do, all of us do. We have a wonderful date with a certain bald headed elf, no less."  
  
Mari poked her head over the top of one of the burnt out trees and sighed in relief at Natlie standing there, "Am I glad to see you, little thief. Andraste's arse, that hurt."  
  
Natlie couldn't contain herself as she flung herself at her friend, making them both fall backwards onto the ground, her arms wrapping around Mari's neck tight as she sobbed hard into it.  
  
"I though I lost you both," she hiccuped out, "Oh nugshit, I thought I lost you."  
  
"I know, I know," Mari muttered into her hair, "I thought we were going to die too. We're alive, both of us. Andraste's flaming tits, I never want to do that again. Ever."  
  
"Can we please go deal with him now," Vengeance muttered behind them all, "I am eager to smite the bastard for what he's done."

* * *

  
Mari hissed under her breath near the new Dalish encampment. Hissed turning around, crawling on her belly over to the other three. The bastard and his flock had the werewolf scouts chained against a tree, one was already dead, blood pouring from the slash across his neck. But it was the fact the elves were using it as target practise, arrows pinned throughout his body, making her feel sick at the butchery.  
  
"There you are," Morgan muttered when she crawled over, "What did you see?"  
  
Mari shook her head sitting down and sighed out loud when she changed her form, "Ones dead, three are chained up. Their not going to last much longer in there. Zathrian was barking orders at his flock, their going to be storming the camp in less then an hour. We have to hurry."  
  
"Four of us, against all of them? Salroka, I'm feeling _real_ uneasy about this now."  
  
Mari shrugged, "It's either us or them. And we need that fucking cure."  
  
"Hmm, perhaps I can aid in a distraction," Vengeance tilted his head at her. "Gather some up and take them down, though I do not particularly relish the thought of dying, you know."  
  
Mari frowned at the newcomer. He, was an odd one for sure. She shook her head looking at them all, "No, no splitting up and no," she looked at him, "distractions. Andraste's arse, why am I in charge of this?" she muttered out.  
  
"I can't go charging in there, love."  
  
"None of us can. Dammit, if we go back now, it'll turn into a blood bath by the time we get there."  
  
Mari breathed in slowly, clamping her eyes shut tight. She was tired of almost dying, tired of almost being on the brink of it. Tired of almost loosing everything she gave a damn about. They needed to do something, but with just four? Mari lets her breath out and nodded her head, "Wait here."  
  
"Salroka," Nat hissed behind her when Mari ran off in her cat form, ignoring the voices of protest behind her when she ran into the encampment. It was now or never.  
  
She ran right up in-front of Zathrian and changed her form, throwing off his guard when she jumped on him, pinning him to the ground. She lent down to his face hearing arrows being notched and drawn back, and smirked at the look on the bald headed elf's face.  
  
"Can't get rid of me that easily. Now," she gripped his hands tighter as he struggled, "tell them to back off, or I'll kill you. Then your damn fucking flock wont have anyone leading it."  
  
Zathrian wrinkled his face up and sneered at her as he spoke, "Stand down, all of you. What do you want, Shemlen."  
  
"To cure the werewolves and free the Lady from your binds, you fucking arrogant piece of shit. Your disgusting," Mari ground out at him, "all these centuries and you still punish them, punish her for your revenge. Does your flock know that? Do they know what you did? **DO THEY!** "  
  
"Keeper. What's the Shem talking about?"  
  
Zathrian's face fell a little, tilting his head to look at his second. "I, had no choice," he mutters out, "They needed to be punished."  
  
"What have you done, Keeper?" a young elf knelt next to Mari, "What are you hiding?"  
  
"Forgive me, Lanaya, I had _no_ choice. I had _no_ choice but too."  
  
Mari pushed Zathrian away from her as she got off him facing the other elf, "Lanaya is it? Your Keeper," Mari spat at him, "created a spirit from the Brecilian forest and bound it into a body of a wolf. To which he then abused his creation to hunt down any and all human, who had _NOTHING_ to do with what happened to his family. He's been alive for centuries, Lanaya, he's as much as connected to the Lady as she is too him. He created the werewolves, and now he's paying for his own creation in both your blood."  
  
Morgan and the others slowly made their way to Mari, "The werewolves your killing, have families, loved ones as much as all of you. There are children among them all."  
  
"The Lady wants this to stop, but he wont break the curse, Lanaya. I have no idea what he's told any of you," Mari looked around herself at the elves in various states of shock, "but they need help, they all do. And the Lady just wants this all to end."  
  
Several shouts rang out around them encampment at Zathrian when the bald headed elf stood slowly, several shouts and weapons aimed right at him.  
  
"He lied, to all of us?"  
  
"We thought-"  
  
"Creators Zathrian, how could you!" Lanaya put her hand over her mouth, "You lied to us all, you killed almost all us and for what?"  
  
" **I HAD NO CHOICE!** They killed my family, raped my daughter, killed my son. I _had_ to make them pay. I _had_ too."  
  
Morgan stood next to Mari, Vengeance and Nat behind her when she shook her head again, "Hasn't this gone on long enough? Wont you free them, free the Lady from your binds?"  
  
"Please, you created me. I wish this to end as much as you Zathrian. You are my creator, but yet, you hurt those who have done nothing to you."  
  
The Lady stood before Zathrian in all her glory, the elves around them in hushed tones looking the spirit over, vines sinking back into the ground that helped her be here. Her branched fingers ran over Zathrian's face as the elf started to cry. "Please. I have felt much. I have learned what it is to feel, to live, to know both pain and love. But please, the thing I want most, is to die."  
  
"I suggest," Vengeance muttered to Mari, "we give them space. I believe justice has been served in the most gracious of ways."  
  
Mari nodded her head mutely turning away from the two, following the others to a campfire. The elves back away also, shaking their heads in disbelief at their Keeper. But Mari, felt a little hollow inside when she looked over her shoulder, the thought of the Lady dying now hurt her inside. A kind gentle spirit asking to die, what would happen to the Rhyming Oak? What's going to happen to the rest of the werewolves? Who's going to protect them now, especially the ones who can never change back, like Nat's father.  
  
Lanaya sat down with them, wringing her hands together looking at them all. "I had no idea. None of us did. He, he just told us that the werewolves were mindless beasts to be put down, urged us all to kill any and all who-" Lanaya wrinkled her brow in sorrow. "We've lost so many because of him. The werewolves have lost so many. He lied to as all. Lied to me. Creators, what are we going to do now?"  
  
"Help them," Morgan muttered to her, "T'would seem it would benefit you both to help the other."  
  
"They have no-where else to go, Lanaya. If and when they change back, they have no-where else to go, not with the horde coming this way." Mari knelt down in-front on Lanaya and took her hand in hers, "I know I'm not a Grey Warden, and I can't force you to aid us, but help them. Go north, get away from here if you wont help us."  
  
"I, I will think on this, ni. We all will. Ma serannas."  
  
Mari nodded letting Lanaya's hand go as the young elf stood back up. Her mind swam with so much thats happened over the past few weeks. It was almost too much when she got pulled onto Morgan's lap, his arms wrapping tight around her. She still had no clue where Vengeance actually came from, why he was out here in the first place, he kept very tight lipped about that fact when he joined them.  
  
Andraste's arse, he was almost the same height as Morgan, as broad as Alistair, as cheeky as Nat, and a bit older looking then them. He was no mere spirit, but definitely a half mortalised one as he grins at her. Deep blue eyes hidden under flopping dark as the night sky hair, sparkled with mischief as his grin widened then winked before looking away.  
  
"Nuglet, there yer are. Runnin' away from yer old man!"  
  
" **PINKEYE!** " Nat squealed jumping into her fathers arms, "Sorry."  
  
"Yer as bad as yer old man, nuglet. Good to see you two still alive an kickin'. Stones, thought we lost you, dun think I could deal with that at the moment."  
  
Mari and Morgan both smiled at him. "Can thank him for that," Mari waved over at Vengeance, "Apparently Nat went wandering off by herself and he found her."  
  
"Oh, t'was nothing. Not like I didn't exactly help you the first time. Miscalculated, you see," Vengeance smirked at Mari, "didn't think the petty elf would go that far. Had to go find the little dwarf so she wouldn't do something foolish. And now here we are."  
  
"You... what?" Mari glared at him, "You miscalculated _what_? That he wasn't going to try and kill us all! Andraste's tits, what's wrong with you?"  
  
Vengeance shrugged one shoulder, "I do not think we have the time, nor I the patience to list any of that. But nevertheless, I am here now, tis going to fun traveling with you."  
  
"What makes you think you are to come with us, spirit?" Morgan rolled his eyes at him. "Do we not have enough?"  
  
"Can never have enough... always enough room for one more," Vengeance chuckled out. "Besides, I have nothing better to do. Better then being in that marsh place. Ugh," he shudders.  
  
"What marsh?" Mari asked him as he still shudders.  
  
"Matters not. I no longer wished to remain in such a foul place and found my way here. In the middle of a forest no less. Tis very pretty, not unlike-" he was cut off when the Lady announced it was time.  
  
Mari frowned at the man-spirit as they all rose. He, was like no other spirit nor demon she's ever encountered before, but then again, anything can happen when something goes wrong with magic. She shrugs her own shoulders when she's braced on two sides by Morgan and Vengeance, walking towards where the Lady and Zathrian held hands.  
  
"We have come to a decision," Zathrian nodded his head to them all, "this has gone on far too long. We have all suffered for what I have done, and I, I want to die also. Forgive me, all of you, for what I have done. But words will never be enough, but my death, my breaking of the curse, will have to suffice. I am ready."  
  
"As am I, my creator."  
  
They all stood and watched as they faced each other, the werewolves and elves holding the others hands as Zathrian raised his staff before slamming it onto the ground. Mari felt a wave of magic go over her, felt it go through her and gripped Morgan's arm hard as both elf and spirit collapsed onto the ground. Her breath caught in the back of her throat watching both of them slowly crumble away into nothing, the motes of dust clinging to the other as it swirled together. Tears rolled down her face, closing her eyes wishing the Lady didn't have to die.

Such a beautiful spirit... _gone_.  
  
She opened her eyes again, wiping her tears away as gasps and cheers erupted everywhere around them. The werewolves were normal again, okay, naked, but very much normal when she looked around. Men, women, children, human, elven and dwarf hugged each other not giving a damn that they were nude. But their eyes, all of them, their eyes remained the same as they once were as werewolves, all of them.  
  
The Dalish rushed about with blanket's and clothing for the unbound people, handing over food and comfort to each and every single one of them. It, was humbling to watch. To see the people go from a life long hate to helping. She has never seen anything like it. Mari looked down to where Zathrian and the Lady used to be, a small budding oak tree was in their place. A small oak tree, with one, single, acorn.  
  
She heard a snicker in-front of her as Nat handed a blanket to Morgan, "Welcome back, Salroka. Nice to see you, um, whole," she giggled running back to her father.  
  
Andraste's arse, Morgan was nude right next her, she blushed trying hard not to look, and jumped a little when he laughed hard himself. A mouth was pressed into her ear, only to make her blush even more when Vengeance chuckled against it, "I think we both missed the show. Tis a shame, I was too busy looking at the little tree. Oh well."  
  
"Andraste's fucking arse, your a handful."  
  
"You have no idea," he purred in her ear before pulling away, walking over to where Nat was with her father.  
  
She felt a pair of arms wrap around her from behind and blushed even harder at it. Andraste preserve her ill-gotten soul if she couldn't feel Morgan press in hard behind her, his damn partial nudity making her stupid heart pound hard in her chest.

Mari swallowed when he lent down to her ear and licked it before he whispered, "Now will you lay with me, love?"

* * *

  
The encampment was still buzzing with activity when they snuck away deeper into the forest. Dalish and cured children ran around playing with each other, adults talking to one another for the first time, and not one of them held any resentment towards to other any more. It was in the past. The single acorn being taken back to the Brecilian when they all go back there, before they all head north.  
  
Two people slunk further away from the hubbub, hand in hand, smiling at each other till they found a place they could lay. They didn't want to wait any more, they didn't want to stop the feelings they had running through them as they faced each other, hearts pounding hard, pulses racing as they kissed.  
  
Tongues gently graced the others in an slow unhurried kiss, quiet moans as skin started to touch skin when clothes were finally pealed away. Morgan was just as terrified as Mari when he pulls her tighter against him, one hand splayed on her back the other at the back of her head, tilting it so his tongue could go deeper. His arousal was stinging his nose the more they kissed, the more they slide tongue over tongue in a slow dance.  
  
He needed her more then anything, needed her more then his own life as they slowly lower themselves to the ground, breaking the kiss briefly so he could see her fully before growling low in his throat at the sight. Mari's face was flushed pink when he smiles at her, running his fingers over his own work on her skin licking her lips with his tongue, whispering against them that he needed her more then life itself.  
  
She was his everything when he slowly slides himself into her, then drops his forehead on her shoulders at the feeling, panting against it sliding in more. His entire body trembled the more he does it, the feeling, the need, the want when he slides back out moaning loud on her shoulder. Mari's hands go through his hair, her legs wrapped around his the more he moves. It, felt like nothing he has ever done before, the sensations running through him as he moved his hips languidly into hers.  
  
Morgans heart pounded in his chest like a drum when he lifts his head from her shoulder, his tongue tracing the arcanum up her neck to her chin, taking both her hands pinning them on either side of her head, lengthening his languid roll of his strokes into her. Both of them moan together, at the feeling, both bodies moving together unhurried, untethered and unbound, like water lapping against a shore.  
  
His mind swam at the sensations filling him from within and without, rolling through him as much as he rolled into her. He growled low in his throat again when he bites down on Mari's neck, sinking his teeth in deep, letting the blood well up under his tongue before licking it away. Morgan gripped her hands tighter the more he moved, arching his back then letting it fall the more he rolls his hips. And his mind swam again at the heady scent coming from them both. It, was intoxicating.  
  
Mari's sweet moans filling his ears along with her scent filling his nose, her blood on her lips when he claims hers again, fastening his movements as he gripped her hands even tighter. Her legs pull him closer into her, arching her own back and hips into his with each movement, making him moan loud with each roll. It was beautiful, when he growled loud as he lent up releasing her hands to take her thighs.  
  
Morgan clamped his eyes shut tight, his head tilted up towards the sky with his mouth open panting, the more he sheathed himself into her wet sex. It was glorious. He didn't want it to end.  
  
His nails dug harder into Mari's thighs the more he moved, biting his lip to the point a small trickle of blood rolled down his chin onto her stomach. He growled low in his throat at that, gripping her thighs tighter, skin slapping against skin making both their bodies jerk. The need to protect went through him sharply again, the need to protect and posses when he lets Mari's thighs go taking her hands from digging into the ground to pin them above her head once more.  
  
"Mine," he growls with each hard thrust into her, "mine, mine, mine."  
  
Mari whimpers under him when he latches onto her neck again, scraping his teeth along it before sinking his teeth in deep once more, claiming, marking, possessing her.  
  
It was all intoxicating. All of it, from the movement of him in her, to pinning her to the ground, the scents clinging, clawing along his senses driving him wild.  
  
Morgan moaned gutturally feeling himself get closer, and moaned even louder when Mari arched up hard into him, feeling her nipples graze his chest. Mari lets out a low hissing groan between her teeth when she comes around him, only to drive him over the edge himself, dropping his forehead on hers as he pants hard through his release in her. Everything take him, he wanted _more_ as he slowed his stuttering movements, his entire body shuddering and shaking on Mari's when he lets her hands go to practically collapsing on-top of her.  
  
His mind swam deliciously panting against her skin, breathing in and exhaling her scent, their scent as they lay there. And grins. He grins wide on her neck, gently sticking his tongue out on the mark there, tracing it all the way to her mouth, and grins even wider.  
  
They had just lost themselves to each other, he couldn't stop grinning at that thought when she smiles back up at him.  
  
And he wanted _more_.  
  
A lot _more_...


	17. The Band of Blighters. (Ch Fourteen & Fifteen)

**Fourteen. The Trouble With Spirits...**

"Dear, you seem to be in a bit of trouble."  
  
Mari huffs out a sigh, squirming on her horse as they rode to Redcliffe, "I'm... fine."  
  
"I hardly think all that squirming is fine, dear. What ever is the matter?"  
  
"It's nothing Wynne," Mari squirms again in her saddle.  
  
Bah, she didn't want to tell her friend that she was sore from the all fucking her and Morgan did two nights previous. Andraste's arse, was she sore, she didn't think it would be this sore when she squirms again. No doubt Wynne would give him an earful if she found out, especially the damn love bites on her neck she had to hide.  
  
Mari flinches when she feels magic being cast over her, then slumps her shoulders at Wynne tutting under her breath.  
  
"It'll pass dear. Give it a few days, then try again."  
  
Her cheeks went bright red when Wynne trots past on her horse, chuckling under her breath, Mari blushed even more. She didn't think her first damn time would be so, so, bloody painful! Ugh, okay this squirming was getting ridiculous at this point traveling through the Bannorn, over the rough terrain. She can hear both Morgan and Vengeance talking behind her, Nat was ahead with Alistair, Leliana, Theron and Pinkeye. Sten narrowed his eyes at her, then to behind them and tutted himself when he rolled them back to Mari.  
  
"Really."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Couldn't of waited. _HAD_ to do it in the forest. Kadan, what would your father say," he chuckled out.  
  
"He would probably say: Sten, keep yer nose out. My punkin' can take care of her self."  
  
Sten laughed hard shaking his head at her, his silverly hair snaking over his shoulders the more he laughed. "Kadan, he would more likely say: Bed next time. Don't want dirt in place that shouldn't be there."  
  
" **STEN!** "  
  
He laughed urging his horse on away from her, leaving her bright red again as she sinks into her saddle. Andraste's fucking arse, she just wanted the ground to swallow her whole as everyone looks at Sten galloping away from them all, then to look back at her. Yup, she wanted the ground, the Blight, maybe a dragon to come just eat her whole. She's never been so embarrassed in her life.  
  
Wynne and Sten are now chuckling up front, looking over their shoulders at Mari, Nat and Alistair are frowning looking at her too. Pinkeye just whooped, pounding a fist in the air slowing his pace down to be next to her. _'Dad, why me?'_ she thinks, ' _I make friends and their all terrible people, all of them.'_  
  
Mari stops her horse, climbs off and looks at everyone pointing her finger. "I hate you all," she huffs out then changes into her cat form, sticks her tail straight up in the air and saunters further into the forest when everyone stops. She didn't care, they could all go bugger off.  
  
"What happened?" Theron asked Sten.  
  
"Er," the bronze giant blushes then dips his head, "I think we just embarrassed Mari, Wynne."  
  
"Oh dear. Wasn't my intension to do so. She was squirming so much on her saddle, I thought she had an injury I didn't know about."  
  
Morgan's eyes go wide under his new hood, pulling it further down over his face in embarrassment. Vengeance on the other hand, glares at them all, "Utterly, terrible, mortals. All of you. For shame, on you all, for shame."  
  
"Let it go," Morgan muttered from under his hood.  
  
"Hardly. Tis a natural thing to do, and you all paw and laugh? Despicable. Are you coming to find her, or do you intend to mope under your hood, werewolf?"  
  
"T'would be easier to let it go, spirit. Let her roam wild for a while," Morgan shook his head at the man-spirit.  
  
Vengeance tugged on Morgan's hood when he lent over to him, "No, go find her or I will, werewolf. Do you not love her enough to go after her? Do you want someone else to go find the one with two colour eyes? Because I will."  
  
"You wouldn't dare!"  
  
"I would, and I am," Vengeance smirked dismounting the horse tethered to Morgan's. "Hold the reigns, werewolf."  
  
Morgan growled low from under his hood as the spirit threw the reigns at him and charged off after Mari. He slipped off his dappled grey charging off himself, the man-spirit darting off behind a tree ahead of him. A low chuckle came behind it when he caught up, only to find himself on his back with a face full of spirit on top of him grinning.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"What does it look like I am doing, dear werewolf. You seem to be on your back, while I," Vengeance smirked waving a hand, "am on top of you."  
  
Morgan shook his head slowly at him, "Tis not what I meant, and you know it!"  
  
"Oh, I do not know. There are many a thing one can do from this position," Vengeance smirked dipping his head. "Do not think I am some blind spirit from the fade. I know all about mortals and their," he lowered his voice, purring, "desires. Tis not hard to watch the dreams of your kind. Not hard to try and experience them as my kind do. Even if it is a little difficult to even attempt to try any of them."  
  
He lent down to Morgan's face dipping both his head and voice even more, "Not hard to have wants of your own, when you find those who are... like you."  
  
"To what do you want, spirit?" Morgan pushed Vengeance off his chest slightly, "You will not posses any of us!"  
  
"Pah, I would never dream of such a thing. Disgusts me that my kind do. Why posses a body when you can have your own?" Vengeance cocks his head and eyebrow at Morgan. "T'was what I did. Could not be helped being in that marsh. Brother Justice on the other hand, remained behind."  
  
Vengeance shook his head sitting up on Morgan thighs and grins down at him again, "Changed me, coming from that place. I thought I would be twisted beyond repair, like the rest of my kind when they slip through to this realm. I have no desire to posses a mortal. I suppose I am, half mortal now? But no less any different from what I once was, just, more so."  
  
"Mind getting off," Morgan muttered up at the older man then rolled his eyes when Vengeance just shook his head again.  
  
"I could get off, but then t'would lead to a mess everywhere," he smirked, "Or perchance do you mean for me to remove myself from being on top of you? Shame, I am enjoying being right here."  
  
"What in the name of Andraste's fucking arse is wrong with you, Vengeance? Never known a damn spirit like you!" Mari had her hands on her hips as she stared at them both on the floor, "Seriously, what's wrong with you?"  
  
"I did say I had not the patience to even go through all of that. T'would take far _too_ long. But none the less," Vengeance jumped up from Morgan's thighs and held his hand out to him, "do we not have to go to, um, Redcliffe was it? I feel a little lost being on the mortal plane. I still do not know how I managed to find my way to this forest."  
  
"You never said what marsh you came from. There's only one I know off and thats-" Mari's eyes go huge as Morgan was helped off the ground, "The Blackmarsh. You, came from the Blackmarsh? _Holy fucking shit_."  
  
"Ahh well. Yes?"  
  
Mari wrinkled her nose up knocking Vengeance down onto his back as she, in turn, pinned him to the ground. "Where the fucking veil is torn? Where blood magic was spilled years before? Where an entire village went missing? I know all about the Blackmarsh, spirit, grandfather went through there once and nearly got himself killed."  
  
"I, yes, tis where I came from. Brother Justice remained behind. I did not want to remain there, but he did, trying to, to-" Vengeance shook his head. "He was always such a prig. With his stupid, _'The righteous shall prevail'_ rubbish he spouted. Pah, t'was not what I was about."  
  
"T'what are you about, Vengeance?"  
  
Vengeance snorted and grinned looking up at both Mari and Morgan, "I wanted freedom. I was always the most curious one of both of us, wanting to explore, he on the other hand, did not. He had no such desire to venture in your realm. My true brother will always be a prig. Me, I was curious, I wanted to seek those who were similar to me I suppose. I miscalculated a little. I did not realise it would do this to me. And now here I lay under you, Mari. Tis quite nice from either end."  
  
"Oh for the love of-" Mari shook her head slowly then dropped it onto Vengeance's shoulder as she shook from laughter, "Morgan, I think we made a spirit friend. Fucking Andraste's flaming sword of shit. Dad's going to love this when he finds out!"  
  
"I could get used to this," Vengeance purred tapping Mari's back with his gauntleted finger.

* * *

  
Alistair slapped Nat's hands away again when she tried to tap his now bald damn head. Hers was just as bad when he slaps them away again, wrinkling his nose up as he rose from the cooking pot full of lamb stew. Makers breath, he couldn't catch a break when she kicks him in the back of the leg before scampering off, laughing.  
  
He just wanted five bloody minutes alone, but _NO_ , everyone had to be everywhere he fucking well looked. Even his tent was subjected to having Mari rummaging around in it, in her new damn form. A fennec of all the bloody things. The black odd eyed fennec barreled out of his tent and straight into him.  
  
"Mari, really?"  
  
Mari the fennec snickered running off towards Sten, with a little red bow attached to her tail. _Makers fucking breath._  
  
Though, Sten did put one on Pinkeye, right behind his ear as he snored loud one night, waking everyone up. The poxy giant hand his mouth hidden behind his hand right now, trying hard not to laugh as Pinkeye made his way over to the cooking pot, the bright pink bow attached right behind his left ear. Yeah, okay that was funny, the albino had no idea it was there, and nobody was going to tell him it was.  
  
Alistair quickly looked over at Wynne as usual, making sure she was still alive, and nodded to himself making his way to the outskirts of the camp. The lamb stew and fresh bread smelt wonderful in his nose as he sat down on a tree stump. Smelt just like-  
  
"Shit."  
  
_Ostagar._  
  
**AND**... there goes his appetite.  
  
He was still hurting from the few weeks previous, what with not wanting to die, then to wanting it to Maker well take him away from his misery. Alistair shook his head putting his bowl and bread on to the ground, he needed to snap out of this bullshit, he really did.  
  
BUT, at least Mari and Morgan had promised him they wouldn't say a bloody word when they got to Redcliffe, about who he was related to. And thank the Maker for that.  
  
"A mage-killer, hmm. I know all about your kind."  
  
Makers fucking breath, the poxy mortal spirit was talking to him. He didn't need that kind of shit right now when he turned away from the older man.  
  
" _Oh_ come now, tis not that bad, is it?"  
  
"Why don't you just crawl into a bush, and die. That would be great," Alistair shook his head at Vengeance.  
  
Vengeance snorted tapping his bowl with his booted foot, "I prefer very much to live, thank you. Why do you not eat, mage-killer, not to your liking? Or are you moping as much as the werewolf does."  
  
"I don't mope. Now kindly piss off."  
  
"Just be thankful I am not my brother, mage-killer. He would be spouting righteous fury about your kind. Trust me on that," Vengeance hissed in his ear. "I would, but I do intend to keep my innards where they are."  
  
Alistair flew off the tree stump, grabbing Vengeance by his gorget bringing the older mans face down to his level. "Call me mage-killer again, and I'll show you what a Templar can do. Your a fucking freak," Alistair pushed him away sneering his lip up, "as much as the swamp freak. Get the fuck out of my sight."  
  
"And yet, you harbour feelings for Faith. Your pathetic, mage-killer. A pathetic little man with a pathetic weight on his shoulders."  
  
"I **_dare_** you one more time, freak."  
  
"Mage-killer," Vengeance sneered back at him.  
  
Alistair lost it, flying off into a rage at the man, his hands and fists flying into punches against metal and flesh. He's had enough when his fists connects with a jaw. He's had enough of everyone and everything around him when he pins the other man to the floor, pounding his fists against him as the man fought back just as hard.  
  
He's never felt more angry then he does now as blood trickles from his lips, from his knuckles as he sits there and heaves on top of the other man. He's angry, hurt, and full of rage, pushing away from Vengeance to stand. His entire body shakes storming back into the camp proper, shaking and raging as he stood out side of his tent. Alistair spits blood onto the ground feeling Vengeance come up behind him, and starts to laugh.  
  
Everyone in the camp looked over to them as Alistair slowly turns around to face the mortal spirit, and laughed even harder.  
  
"I've never killed a mage before in my life, but I damn well feel like I have, leaving my fucking brother behind. I couldn't do it when they forced me to. Cullen had too," Alistair spat on the ground wiping the blood from his face, "he had to kill her because I wouldn't. They didn't even wait one more Maker given minute before he cut her head off. I walked out then, I would never stoop to their level. So, freak, I am not a Maker fucking mage-killer. I never will be!"  
  
"But yet, you act like one. Hide behind your pathetic shield of being one. Pushing everyone away because that is all you see," Vengeance growled at him, "a miserable waste of space Templar."  
  
" **DON'T** act like you know anything about me, you know nothing!"  
  
"I know your kind. Do not think we never saw what you put your mages through. Sending them to their deaths in the so called Harrowing. Pitting them against demons, knowing they had no chance of survival. _Oh_ I know," Vengeance rounded on Alistair again pushing his face into his, "do the words Pounce and Cat mean anything to you?"  
  
Alistair's face paled backing away: Anders. Anders went through his Harrowing, being stalked by a giant cat waiting to pounce on him. _Oh, Maker. The freak spirit knows. How does-_  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"Because we all watch what your kind do to mages, Templar. Tis deplorable, despicable what you push them into doing. And then you turn right around and lop their heads off! Or worse, cut them away from everything they have ever known!"  
  
Alistair backed away more as the man rounded on him again, his fingers pushing against Alistair's chest. "My true brother maybe Justice, he may spout righteous indignation, but I am the one who acts on it Templar," Vengeance spat at him. "I am the one who protects rather then sit back and wait. I suggest very much that you learn to be what your meant to be, lest you whither and die a bitter worthless pathetic old man."  
  
"That's enough, Vengeance dear. Please remove your hands from Alistair's shoulders," Wynne pushes her staff between them tapping Vengeance on the chest with it. "Thank you. Faith would like a word with you, Vengeance."  
  
Alistair gripped his fists tight against his body, storming off again as the two spirits talk in hushed tones. Maker take him, take them, and take everyone around him. He's had enough. Wynne was right, he needed to harden himself up, steel himself, and Vengeance, the fucking spirit freak pushed him over the edge. It felt good, feeling this pure anger roll through him cutting his way through the brush, it felt good to finally let loose everything he kept lidded.  
  
Alistair punched a tree, kicked a bush, and laughed hard when he collapsed onto his back on the ground. The weight almost felt lifted. Maker, all it took was for him to beat the living crap out of the freaky mortal spirit. _Is that what they do, make you see beyond what you are? Faith did._ So it must be as he lays there laughing into the sky. He, feels free. Finally free. All he needed now, was his brother free, his other friends, watch the throne burn. _Because, you know-_  
  
"Fuck the Maker taken throne, and Cailan, and Maric and my Maker taken arse of a father, the circle, Templars and the bloody Blight. Fuck the Maker taken chantry too while I'm at it!'  
  
"That's the spirit."  
  
"And fuck you too, Vengeance. So thanks for that," Alistair rolled his eyes up at the man above him. "So is that what you do? Push people into seeing themselves, or are you just an arse."  
  
"I am an arse, Templar. Always will be, tis why me and my true brother never really got along."  
  
Alistair sat up as the older man lent against a tree, "You keep saying true brother. What, like, an actual brother? I thought spirits, you know, just pop into existence."  
  
"Tis my actual brother, my twin I should say. We are in your mortal terms, two halves of the same coin. He is Justice, I am Vengeance, tis the same things in truth." Vengeance snickered, then waved his hand at Alistair, "We are borne, made, some do just appear. But most of us, we are an idea and we are borne, like myself and my brother. T'would be far more easier to say, the fade gave birth to us like a mother does a babe."  
  
"You left him behind," Alistair shook his head, "like I left mine."  
  
"No, he wanted to remain behind. A bit of a difference, Templar. Me and you, we are nothing alike. I do not love my brother and he does not love me. We fought constantly about our ideals, on how to do things. But he does have a point on the whole, _'Too many injustices'_ rubbish he spouted, tis far too much of that. And I intend to do what I can here with all of you."  
  
Alistair huffed rolling his eyes laying back down again, "Great. Thats... just fucking great."  
  
"Ahh, Templar, t'would seem I piss you off most graciously, do I not? Good, because I do intend to be more of an arse, as you say."

* * *

  
"How much further do I require to be sitting on this- this- thing!"  
  
Mari yipped at Vengeance on his lap, she gave up her horse to him when his own, decided to run away from him. But, the man hated being on the back of one when the set off again towards Redcliffe. So here she sits, on his lap as a fennec while he grinds his teeth above her.  
  
"Another day, Vengeance. Makers breath, I see why your brother hates you," Alistair laughed riding up next to them, "You just don't stop complaining, do you."  
  
"Pah. T'would be simpler and easier to just walk, would it not?"  
  
" **No.** "  
  
Vengeance heaved a sigh then ran his fingers over Mari's head, "We do not have animals in the fade. I do often wonder why."  
  
Mari would shrug but being as small as she was, she just yipped instead at him. Vengeance tilted his head a little a her, and smiled, "I would much prefer you as you are, odd eyes. But I suppose this will have to suffice. Though, the werewolf does seem to be rather unhappy you chose my seat rather then his. Moping under his hood as he does."  
  
"I do not mope, spirit! And I do have a name. Use it, lest I see you sent back the void!"  
  
"T'will do you no good to send me back. I will still be as I am here, Morgan. There, is that better? I said your name."  
  
"Arse."  
  
"Yes, I do believe we have already covered that fact. Do we intend to keep digging it up? Or can we move past that term?" Vengeance rolled his eyes at Mari as she snickered on his lap.  
  
Morgan huffed out loud shaking his head at them both, "Yes, I am unhappy she chose to sit with you. But understandable, after last time," he muttered out afterwards.  
  
"Oh, and what was that then?"  
  
"None of your business, spirit!"  
  
"T'would it involve a sexual activity? I am most certain it does, judging by the look on your face, Morgan," Vengeance smirked out.  
  
Mari had to hide her face in the horses mane as Morgan went of the handle at Vengeance. The spirit really had no idea he was just pushing everyones buttons, just, as he said, speaking his mind when he saw things. Sort of like Faith whenever he came through Wynne. Mari sighed, tucking her nose up under her tail as the two men shouted at each other above her, thinking about the older woman.  
  
She was slipping further away each day, but she didn't want Alistair or anyone else to know just yet. There was nothing any of them could do, Mari tried, but Wynne told her it wouldn't help her any. Faith, on the other hand was becoming bereft to the fact Wynne was dying in-front of them all, that he was trapped within her as she slowly died. Mari just wanted both of them to last just a little longer, but there was going to be no guarantee they would last another few months at this rate.  
  
Mari sighed again tucking her nose further under her, then twitched feeling Vengeance running his fingers over her ears, sighing loudly.  
  
"T'would seem, odd eyes, he does not trust me very much. I do not blame him. I would not trust me either if I came out of no-where to aid. T'was not my intension to make you all not trust me. I cannot help what I am, nor where I came from. I, apologise for miscalculating what I did, I did not think it would all go like this, I just did not. And now I am stuck here, not that I mind, but still I am lost... and alone."  
  
Mari lifted her head up to look at the older man, nudging his hand with her snout when he looked back down at her sadly, "I, should not put what I am on you. Tis my burden to bear such weight, odd eyes. I do not know if you trust me, I will not blame you if you do not. For many see Vengeance as a demon, but not all of us are. I am not. My brother and I, we are the same, but yet not. We do look similar I suppose, but I am the darkness to his light. I am no demon, I am a spirit. _Was_ , a spirit I suppose now. Pah, t'will do no good moping. What is done is done, there is no going back, not any more. I will live and survive alone if it were to come to that."  
  
Mari changed her form, resting her front paws on his chest purring loudly as to say your not alone, while she nuzzled his chin. Mari then mewed quietly climbing up on Vengeance's shoulder, and rubbed her face in his hair like she does with Nat.  
  
Vengeance chuckled under his breath at her, reaching up to stroke Mari under her chin, "From what I have learned of felines, this would mean you _like_ , me?"  
  
Mari licked his ear as to say yes, earning another chuckle from him, "Well then. I like you too, odd eyes. I, thank you for listening to me whine. I have not had a very good time in the fade with my brother. We never truly got along. I do not think we ever will. Perhaps, if, we have a chance to speak without everyone around, I would like to learn from you about your, life? I suppose that it too bold of a thing to ask. I tried to learn from those who came into our realm, but most where not forth coming. I only know about the Templars brother through another. I suppose I do look a little aggressive, do I not?"  
  
Mari carefully jumped from Vengeance's shoulder to the back of the horse, slowly turned around and sat behind him changing her form once more, "Not really. I've seen grandmothers look more aggressive then you!" she chuckled out behind him, "But I'd like that, Vengeance, to talk that is."  
  
"Thank you. Is it true, that the little dwarf and the Templar had a sexual relation? Faith told me that they did, he was a little jealous I suppose."  
  
Mari laughed, "Yeah they did. But didn't last very long. Me personally, can't get my head around the fact some people just like to fall in and out of bed with everyone. I just can't."  
  
"I would not know. I watched, yes. But I do not know if I could be that way either. What is the point of many, when you can have one or two? I, do not understand that," Vengeance shrugged then sighed when the horse whinnied, "And I do believe these, _'horses'_ , do not like me either."  
  
"Most animals don't like spirits, Vengeance. Or demons. Cat's don't mind, their little demons themselves when they get going," Mari rested her head on the older mans back, snorting a laugh, "Ahh, your so sweet, you know that?"  
  
"I, am? Do not let him hear you say that," Vengeance grinned looking over his shoulder, "though, to be caught between you both, I would rather like that I think. T'would be nice to experience all that. Perhaps bound, be laid at your mercy."  
  
"Andraste's fucking arse, you really are a handful!"  
  
"I am more then a handful, odd eyes," Vengeance dips his voice lower practically purring, "a rather large handful. Forgive me," Vengeance shook his head looking forward again, "We have this Redcliffe do deal with, do we not?"

* * *

  
Camp was quiet right now. No-one was shouting or yelling at anyone. No-one was fighting or crying. Just silence. Which unnerved Mari a little as she trotted about sniffing everything. Even Morgan was quiet when they made camp a few miles way from Redcliffe, not even bothering with his usual rounds to make sure the camp was safe. The entire thing made Mari frown when she sat down.  
  
She wondered if she did something wrong. He hadn't said a damn word to her the entire time they made camp, not a thing. It, was like she didn't exist the way he ignored her, pulling his hood down over his face to put his own tent back up again. _That_ _hurt._ That hurt her when she whined looking at it. Mari shook her head and laid on her front paws, looking into the camp fire, watching the flames slowly die down.  
  
A few hours earlier the camp was talkative, even if there was another argument between Alistair, Morgan and Vengeance. Andraste's arse, it was like being back home with the amount they all spat at each other. Vengeance ended up walking away from camp, telling them all he would rather be by himself then venom like them. 'As bad as his brother' she heard him mutter walking away.  
  
Mari had no idea why Morgan didn't like the older man, she did. She really liked the oddest spirit she has ever known, smelling like fresh snow when she scented him as her wolf: snow, leather, and very heady male musk. A very pleasant smell just like-  
  
She whined again looking over at Morgan's tent, hurt. Was it because she liked Vengeance that he was doing this? He didn't need to shut her out completely because of it. He didn't even say a word when she bought more clothing for herself in the small village near the Southern Bannorn. Well, herself and Vengeance, seeing as the older man had nothing but his armour. Not even a weapon.  
  
Mari shook her head again going to her tent, she was just so confused by the whole thing. She tugged her tent flap open and pulled out the full pack she made up for Vengeance. He, was going to need everything inside it, everything. He obviously had no idea how to live outside the fade, not even knowing how he managed to make his way through the forest. And he needed to bathe, silly man.  
  
Flemeth's Grimoire stared at her before she shut her tent flap back up, she didn't care about reading that any more. She **NO** desire to even go through it's pages. She didn't want to find out what was within, but she guessed it had something to do with this ritual father told Morgan not to do. _'Hmm,'_ Mari thought, _'wonder why?'_ Okay, she would find that part in the Grimoire, see what that was all about. Yeah, she would do that.  
  
She found Vengeance sitting quite a distance away from the camp proper, his head in his hands. From here, she could swear he was sobbing by the shake in his shoulders when she got closer to him. Can, spirits cry? Mari pondered the closer she got. Vengeance obviously had more emotions then his fade brethren with the way he acted or said things. He was definitely more different then any other she has ever known, more so then Faith.  
  
"Vengeance," Mari said quietly behind him, "I have some things for you."  
  
And there it was, that soft hiccup. The tell tale sign of crying that she knows far too well. Her heart broke a little at it.  
  
"Odd eyes? Should you not be sleeping?"  
  
"Not tired at the moment. Here," she slowly walked in-front of him, giving him time to compose himself and handed him the pack. She turned away from him slightly when he opened the pack, she knows what she bought, she hoped they would fit his tall muscular frame. Andraste's arse, she twitched a little when he tutted.  
  
"I, do not understand? Why do I need all these things?"  
  
Mari bit her lip from chuckling, but did anyway, "Because you can't wear your armour all the time, Vengeance. You do need to change. And bathe. Sorry."  
  
"But my armour is who I am! It defines me! T'was all I wore back-" Vengeance sighed out loud, "I suppose you are right. I don't suppose you would help me with this. I have never done any of this before."  
  
"Sure. I can wash your hair, trim it if you want. But you getting undressed, thats all on you, Ven. And... I can hear your stomach rumbling. Andraste's flaming knickers, why didn't you say you were hungry!"  
  
Mari raised her eyebrow at him when he blushed a little. _Oh..._  
  
"I did not truly know what that was. I suppose my eyes hurting means I am tired also? I am not ready for all of this, am I? Fuck."  
  
The laugh that bubbled up from her throat made him look at her funny, which only made it worse. He said fuck. He said shit back at Nat when he found her. He really was the oddest spirit.  
  
"Yes, Ven. Now, lets get you sorted out. You, do know how to undo your armour, right?"  
  
"I am not a complete imbecile! I have been nude before," he smirked at her before winking, " _Ahh_ , tis not what you think. Well, not quite."  
  
"Just, get down to the bloody water," Mari shooed him trying her hardest not to blush at the older man snickering at her, "and try not to drown before I get there, huh."  
  
She let him go, with him clutching the pack close to his chest as she goes to the still warm stew left over from earlier. Even had two loaves of bread left and milk. Should be enough for Ven. Though, he has never eaten before, would he be able too? Could he keep it down? Mari frowned a little dishing a good portion into a bowl. She had no idea at all about this. This must happen often, a spirit finding its way through, trying to live like a mortal would. Though she's never seen one. Maybe she has and never knew it! Pah, dad might know, or grandfather. If only dad came back to talk to her again, find her. But he hasn't.  
  
Mari lets out a sigh slowly making her way to the waters edge, and nearly drops the food in her arms at a very, naked, Vengeance, looking down at his reflection in the water. Andraste's glorious bouncing tits, she just couldn't take her eyes off at the way his muscles bunched in his back when he moves close to the waters edge. Nor the way his thighs- _shit, shit, SHIT!_  
  
She had to dart behind the tree when he started to kneel down, her bloody heart pounding hard in her chest, trying to calm her damn breathing down. _Why? Why the fuck was this happening to me right now of all times?_  
  
Mari coughed loudly before stepping out from behind the tree, hoping to every bloody god, dragon and nug eaten by Nat that he had some clothes on.  
  
"I am waiting."  
  
_Andraste preserve me,_ "I have food and drink, Ven. Hope you can keep it down though."  
  
"We shall see shall we not, odd eyes," he chuckled at her, and thank everything he had pants on at least, but shit, he could of at least put on a shirt. Are those scars on his- "Are, you alright?"  
  
Mari blinked a few times and smiled at him, "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Eat first, I'll deal with your hair after, how about that."  
  
Vengeance nodded taking the bowl and bread from her arms, and take everything if his fingers didn't brush them before he sat down. _Dammit Mari... compose yourself!_  
  
"So, why do you hate your brother so much?"  
  
"I, do not wish to talk about that. Not right now. T'would prefer never to talk about any of that, if you will."  
  
Okay different subject, "Then maybe you can tell me if there are more like you. I mean mortalised spirits. Do you know if there are more like you walking around? And does it happen a lot?"  
  
"Yes, it does and can happen. I have yet to meet another of my kind such as I, though I am not very long here. Most of my kind turn, become foul and corrupt as they slip or pulled through to this realm." Vengeance sighed heavily putting the bowl down, "I, was most fortunate I was not corrupted. I had no more desire to remain where I once was. But I had no more desire to remain in the fade, neither. I made a calculated decision and made my way through a tear in the marsh. Time here, confuses me somewhat. Time has no meaning where I am from, as you well know being a mage."  
  
Mari shrugged a shoulder at him, "Tell you the truth, I hate the fade myself. Never really did like being there, hate having my dreams scattered far and wide. But anyway," Mari shook her head at him, "your hairs pretty damn long. How short do you want it, Ven?"  
  
"I, do not know. To what do you suggest would be best? I did like how the Templars looked before he cut it, do you think that would suit me also?"  
  
_Fuck yes._ Mari sucked in a quick deep breath and nodded at him. She was in deep bloody trouble now.  
  
"Then I would like that, if you will. But do mind the ears, I am rather attached to them," he smirked at her, then laughed when Mari slammed a hand over her face. "Forgive me, I could not help it."  
  
"Have you bathed yet?" _Andraste help me._  
  
"I have not. I was- never mind. No I have not."  
  
_Shit._ "Then you'll have to do that before I can, um, do your hair, Ven. And I'm guessing you've never done that before either."  
  
"No. I suppose I would need to be nude to bathe? Pah, why is all this so much more then I thought t'would be. So many things to try and learn. You mortals make it all seem far easier then it truly is."  
  
She smirked a little at Vengeance and held out her hand for him. Vengeance huffed a little and took it as he stood, both of them walking down to the waters edge. His armour still scattered on the banks of it, his pack on top of it all, which made it easier for Mari to dig the soap and shears from within. She motioned with her head and stepped into the water fully clothed, not like it matters, was only water after all. Vengeance huffed a chuckle following her in, his hand on her shoulder as she led them to the waist deep water. Being this close, she can clearly see the scars that ran on his chest and arms, even up his neck, going down over his hips. Andraste's shit, these weren't battle wounds the more she looks them over, dipping the soap into the water, these, were from someone beating the shit out of him.  
  
His brother?  
  
Mari motioned with her finger for him to turn around, and to kneel as she lathered the soap up more. Why would his own brother do this too him? Another fade spirit no less. What the fuck happened between them for his own brother to do this to him? She shook her head trying to push those thoughts away, tilting his head back so some of Vengeance's hair got wet. He, sighed out the more she soaked his hair, which made Mari blush profusely at it-  
  
Then she saw his ears. _Holy fucking shit, they, they were slightly-_  
  
"Ven, your **ears**! Sorry, but are you-"  
  
"Elven? Suppose so. Most of the ancient ones are somewhat elven, odd eyes. Did you not know that?"  
  
"No, I had no idea! I just assumed... holy shit. Sorry. Lets, lets just finish this up, dip your head back more, please." Mari's heart pounded even harder in her chest looking over thedelicately pointed ears. By the gods, dragons, Maker, the stone, were they beautiful. But now she can see it in his face, the slight flat ridge of the nose. Completely miss-able if you didn't look close. Though his hair did cover most of his face... easily miss-able.  
  
"To be fair, I am no ancient. Neither is my brother. I have found many that are and are wondrous to talk too. But many do not wish to talk to us younger spirits. We, I mean me, I am not very old. Faith said in your mortal terms I would be near forty? Means nothing to me, odd eyes. I am what I am," Vengeance sighs again at her, opening his eyes to look up at Mari and smiles, "To what did you assume we were all like? That we were all human looking?"  
  
" **Yes!** I really had no idea. I mean you look- Dad and grandfather never said. Andraste's arse, I guess I really don't know shit, huh."  
  
Vengeance smiled more as he stood up, "T'would not be right not know everything. We all have have many a thing to learn. Are we done? Or do I need to do anything else in this water?"  
  
"No, you still need to clean your, um, skin."  
  
"Would you help me with that also," he purred at her. Shit, she should of known with the bloody purring. Theron did it sometimes when he was happy, but not often. She nodded her head pushing one of the bobbing soaps over to him, taking the other herself lathering it up. She helped him clean his skin, from chest to back, trying to ignore the scars, but also trying to ignore the bloody feelings running through her. He was busy doing his arms and face, then she left Ven to do the other bits on himself when she stepped out of the water, then cursed a little to the fact her sleeping clothes, had gone see-through.

 _Dammit all._  
  
Mari didn't want to turn around hearing Ven step out of the water not longer after, knowing full damn well, his would be see-through too. She coughed waving her hand to the tree-stump, motioning Ven to sit, while she grabbed the shears and comb. She needed to shake this shit off, she needed to stop this as she ran the comb through his ridiculously soft hair, freeing  
it from tangles, smoothing it out so she could cut it. Yes, she would keep the back long, perhaps braid it while she kept the rest hawked, shore the sides. _Yes, fucking hell yes, would suit him perfectly._  
  
She got trimming, shaping as he sat there patiently purring a little at the contact. Tilting Ven's head one way, then another, shaping, shoring, nodding to herself in satisfaction at the result. Then started to braid the long piece of hair at the back for him.  
  
"Odd eyes, could you- would you ever consider loving someone like me? Or t'would it be not acceptable?"  
  
Mari's hands stutter on his braid, "I- what?"  
  
"Is it not appropriate to ask such thing? I do apologise for everything I have said. Tis not my intension to- to-" he sighed dropping his head a little. "Matters not. Please continue with what you are doing."  
  
"Ven," Mari bit her lip before continuing. "Me and Morgan are, well, sort of together? I think. Andraste's arse, buggered if I know right now. But," she heaved a sigh letting his braid drop to stand in-front of him, "your a beautiful man, Ven. Far more beautiful now that I can bloody well see your face properly, hidden under that mop of hair. But-"  
  
"I am not desirable, I understand. I never have been, brother Justice even told me so." And that did it, Mari's fucking heart broke looking at his face looking away from her, it broke right onto the ground.  
  
"No, Ven, your not undesirable at all. What ever your brother said to you, did to you, is a fucking lie. He hurt you, I can see that," she traces the scars on his chest, earning a shudder from Vengeance. "You are the most unique spirit I have ever met. And it bloody pains me to see such a strong soul reduced to- to this!"  
  
Mari flung her arms around him and pulled him in tight against her. She knew right there and then, as he sobbed hard on her shoulder, that she was gone and done for. She loved Morgan, shared her body with him, everything of her with him. But now, she felt for Vengeance too. She was done for, and she knew it when she kissed the top of his head, pulling him closer to her  
as he cried.

* * *

* * *

* * *

**Fifteen. Nobody Said It Was Easy.**

The road leading to Redcliffe was quiet. Far too quiet. Where the bloody hell was everyone? There should at least be guards roaming about roads. Villagers even hawking wares right down to the crossroads, but there bloody well was none the closer they got.  
  
Alistair wrinkled his nose up at the thought of heading through the gates, back to that place. Not like he cared any more, this, none of this, meant nothing to him. But the fact the roads were empty, that niggled him something rotten. Even Mari wrinkled her nose up looking about. This was her home as much as his a long time ago. Strange, they could of grown up together if things turned out differently.  
  
"Somethin' ain't right here," Pinkeye muttered.  
  
Yeah, the albino was right, but an idiot for stating the obvious.  
  
"Oh look," Alistair pointed towards the gates, "There shut. Looks like we can't get in. Orzammar anyone?"  
  
"Er, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but... I can sense the undead."  
  
"Oh thats just fucking perfect. Thanks Mari, now we're going to have to find out why."  
  
Mari glared at him as Vengeance got off the back of her horse. Morgan, the fucking swamp freak still hadn't said a Maker taken word to any of them for the past couple of days, but yet here he was jumping from the back of his horse to the gates, pushing the mortal spirit out the way. Alistair rolled his eyes at the entire thing, he had no idea what Mari saw in the swamp freak, let alone helping the spirit freak out with anything.  
  
_What was she thinking?_  
  
"I can deal with this, Morgan. I do not need your help!"  
  
Morgan just growled low in his throat. Oh, this was sooo sodding perfect it was comical as they rounded on each other again. AND then Alistair flinched at swamp freak turning into a werewolf, pulled the lock from the gate practically throwing it at the spirit freak. _Brilliant._ Maker take them both.  
  
"What the fuck Morgan! What's your damn problem?" Mari spat at the werewolf, only to have a growling reply back at her.  
  
"Enough if you all will. If there are undead here, we need to deal with them. Mari, dear, is this necromancy or something else?"  
  
Mari shrugged pulling her horse in past the gates, "This isn't necromancy at all. If we can find a corpse I could probably tell you more. I don't feel blood magic either, something strange is going on here."  
  
"Tis because there is a demon nearby. A demon of Desire. I can feel it. T'would seem someone foolish has been playing with things beyond what they know."  
  
"Oh thats fucking _PERFECT!_ " Alistair shouted flinging his hands in the air, "First undead now demons. Thanks spirit freak, thanks a lot."  
  
"Do not blame me for this, Templar! I merely said what was out there. If you cannot accept that then perhaps you should return to camp with the others. We have undead and demons to deal with and your petty attitude is beginning to annoy me endlessly!"  
  
"Without a Maker bloody weapon, freak? What you gonna do, bore them to death?" Alistair snarked at Vengeance.  
  
"Pathetic little man. You have no idea what I am capable of. Now watch and learn," Vengeance smirked back at him raising a hand, dark blue then deep purple swirled around it before he snapped his hand shut in-front of his face.  
  
"Your a mage! What the-?" Alistair couldn't wrap his head around that one. A spirit, this spirit in particular, was a mage? Well no bloody wonder Mari liked him.  
  
The older man just shook his head, following Mari and the other freak through the gates. Pinkeye on the other hand snorted knocking his shoulder, "Yer should always expect the unexpected, Templar. Jus look at me!" the albino grinned at him.  
  
"He is not wrong, dear. Now come along, we have a village to save and undead to vanquish."  
  
Alistair snorted at his friend, nodding his head. But still, this whole bloody thing didn't sit right with him. He didn't know whether it was the fact he was returning here after so long, or that there were undead and demons running amok in the village. Probably both. Ugh, he wished Nat was here with her chipper attitude, or Sten or even Leliana and her Orlesian accent. Then there was Theron the Dalish who hated his own Dalish kind. Strange kid. But nope, three of them were sick as dogs back at camp, with Sten looking after them all. He wished he was. Fucking Maker taken poxy bloody Redcliffe.  
  
Poxy bloody spirit too. Just happens to be a bloody hulking elf, with his pretty pointed ears, and better hair then his. Poxy bloody... oh look the windmill. Alistair smiled looking up at it as they go by. The only fond memory of being in Redcliffe was that sodding windmill.  
  
"I remember trying to climb the sails, Carver yelling at me for being an idiot when I fell off one of them."  
  
Alistair barked a laugh at Mari's face reminiscing, "I did the same bloody thing. Though my dad beat the shit out me, but still I did the same thing."  
  
"Oh no, Carver did. He was a piece of work, Al. Garrett only followed him because he was a lost puppy. Middle child, you know, trying to live up to his older brother."  
  
"What about Bethany?" he asked her.  
  
"What about her? She was just a little girl here when she set fire to the copse over there," Mari pointed further down the road, "she was just six when it happened. I hated moving away from here in the middle of the night."  
  
"Do you ever miss them?" Vengeance asked Mari, only to have her sigh out a little at them both.  
  
"I miss Bethy. She's just a teen and Carver already started to poison her mind before I left. Turning her against me because I was different, because dad was different. I just hope he doesn't poison her completely, like he's trying to do with Garrett. I miss dad more."  
  
Alistair huffed knocking Mari's arm as they all set off again, "So you moved away from here eight years ago. To Lothering no less. You ever think that the world has plans for all of us? I mean you were at Ostagar, so was both me and Nat. And we all got saved by Flemeth and swampy up front, who just happens to join us. I mean, don't get me wrong, I know you and him are, you know... but anyway, don't you think it's all a little... convenient?"  
  
"Andraste's arse, seriously? He's been abused by his own damn mother for being borne a fucking man, Al. Never been around people much because of her. And your telling me it's a little, convenient! I'm done talking about this."  
  
Alistair grabbed her arm when she started to storm off, "Mari, listen to me. I'm not trying to piss you off or anything, okay. I know what its like to be abused, alright, I know what it feels like. But can you really trust him? Can you! What if he's done something to you with all those tattoos and markings? What if he, I don't know, ensorcelled you some how, feeding you lies or some shit?"  
  
"Just stop."  
  
"Mari, I'm fucking serious!" he hissed in her ear. "I'm just worried he's going to do something to you. Please, for the Makers sake, be careful. I trust the freaky spirit more then I do him."  
  
"Templar, leave her alone. T'will do us no good standing here doing nothing while down there," Vengeance waved his hand smirking slightly, "is a battle to be had. And I am itching to deal with this Desire demon. Never trust them, no matter what they tempt you with, never."  
  
The spirit freak was right, they needed to deal what was happening here, and standing around flapping his concerned gums were getting them no-where. Wynne and the other freak had already gone ahead, Pinkeye with his bright pink bow was sniffing around everything. Alistair nodded his head tugging on his horses reigns. Okay he felt bad bringing this shit up now, but he really was worried for Mari's attraction to Morgan, even if the other man hadn't spoke a word to any of them.  
  
Ugh, okay, the eerily quiet village was giving him the creeps. AND the dead bodies even more so. Makers shit, there were a lot around. _A lot._ He recognised a couple of the corpses from years ago, and slammed a hand over his mouth at them: The baker he used to nick bread from. The barmaid with gorgeous red hair. Oh, Maker, even the Mother he remembers had her hands severed from her body. All of them were butchered, all of them.  
  
Bones were strewn among the fresh corpses and-  
  
Alistair felt bile rise up in his throat. His fathers dead face looked back at him, hung up like a puppet, his arms and legs out stretched nailed against the tavern wall. He KNEW he was still alive, but now the fucker was actually dead. He was actually looking at his dead fathers milky white eyes.  
  
"Alistair, dear," Wynne muttered beside him, "seems I was wrong. He didn't die at sea, he died here. I would say I'm sorry for your loss, but I know that's not the case."  
  
"Yeah, I told you. Well, he's dead now, I can put that shit behind me. But still, Wynne, what the actual fuck happened here? Mother Hannah, I remember her, she's back up that way dead."  
  
Alistair turned to face Vengeance, "Would a demon do this? I mean I know what they can do, seen it, lived it, but this," he waved his hand at his fathers dead body, "is this something a Desire demon would normally do?"  
  
"If it were powerful enough, yes. But this, all this, seems like a puppeteers work. Someone were pulling strings while the demon whisper in their ears. Well, I will be the first to admit, I do not like where this is heading," Vengeance shrugged with his arms, "Perhaps that castle would have more answers?"  
  
"Riiight, so we're just going to storm through the front gates? Yeah, I don't see that going well for us, do you?"  
  
"Ahhh, quit yer griping, boy. I found a way in. At the windmill, there's a little trap door hidden unda some straw. I ate the straw, smelt too good to pass up you know," Pinkeye snorted a giggle at them, "Awww come off it, I was hungry!"  
  
"Well done Pinky, dear."  
  
"Stop callin' me Pinky, woman!"

* * *

  
The musty damp corridor felt endless. Endless and a little foreboding. Cobwebs were strung up in every corner they went around, little green spiders hanging from the end of their silk in some. Bat's skittered and screeched above them. More bones and corpses lined the way for them, leading them to holding cells under the castle, with a few of the undead harassing someone in one of the cells.  
  
Morgan growled low in his throat while he tore apart one of the undead. He was just so angry, angry with himself, with Vengeance, with everyone when he tears another apart. He slept with Mari, yes, it was the most wonderful thing he has ever done. Spending the entire night under the canopy, under the stars, releasing himself in her over and over again. But he felt, empty. The whole thing left him feeling empty inside even though he wanted more, a lot more.  
  
And now, he's pushed her away, right into the new comer. A former denizen of the fade no less. A spirit friend, no less. What did she tell him, she wouldn't let anyone close to her unless she trusts them. Spirit or otherwise. And what does he do? He pushed her away, hiding behind the new clothing the other werewolves and Dalish gave him.  
  
"Hell-hello? Is, anybody out there?"  
  
"What the- Jowan? Maker, Jowan!" Alistair stumbled past them all to the little cell, gripping the bars tight in his hands.  
  
"Alistair? Oh thank the Maker it's you! I thought I was going to die down here."  
  
"You might just do that, you bastard. How could you! You lied to me, to Lilly, to all of us, and for what, a little bit of power?"  
  
"Maker, I just wanted to be free with Lilly. And now I've lost her, haven't I. I've lost it all. And I'm stuck down here trying to repent for what I've done. Alistair, Maker, I didn't mean too, you have to believe me. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt Lilly either, but there was no way out. Not any more."  
  
"Jowan, dear, you hurt a lot of people with what you did. But not as much as what Uldred did to the tower. There's hardly anybody left," Wynne muttered holding the bars also.  
  
" _OH_ Maker. Why, why does he punish me so? I tried to help here, tried to help a little boy, but, but he turned on us. I didn't summon the demon, he did. All I did was poison the Arl."  
  
"What the hell are you talking about, Jowan?"  
  
The man screwed his face up as he started to cry, "I was employed by Loghain to poison the Arl. Get him out the picture you know, so he could take the throne. But the Arlessa's son, he showed signs of being a mage, so I helped him. And he turned on everyone, killing them all for his games. Maker, his games," Jowan bawled even more slumping onto the ground.  
  
"And now, a child has the power of a demon behind him! How old is this boy?" Morgan asked the blubbering man.  
  
"Eight, he's just eight years old. Maker, this is all my fault. Everything. His, his names Connor, he's just eight!"  
  
This boy, for that is what he is, a boy. A child had the power of Desire behind him. This, was not right. This Arl, meant nothing to Morgan, but a little boy giving himself over to a demon? That didn't sit well with him at all.  
  
"Dammit Jowan, why? Why the fuck do you keep being so stupid? I called you a friend once," Alistair spat at him, "your nothing more then a power hungry degenerate. No better then Uldred and Loghain. Your pathetic. I hope you fucking well rot down here."  
  
Alistair pushed past Morgan, dragging Wynne behind him. The old woman had her face wrinkled up at Jowan in pure disgust. He felt just as disgusted as them both when he followed them, hoping the pathetic mage rotted away down here with his guilt. Pinkeye growled low in his throat and darted past them all, but Vengeance and Mari it seems, were more interested in talking in low voices behind them. Oh, did that hurt him. But he did push her away. Was he scared? He didn't think so. He wanted to protect her, thats what it was, protect her from himself and his mother. He just did not want to see Mari fall prey to that bitch of a woman.  
  
But, he still felt empty about the whole thing. Perhaps he should never of done it. Better to not feel anything, and to live a life away from everyone. He now sees why his mother is the way she is. To never let any get close to her, lest she fell in love. It still hurt though when he looks over his shoulder at the two behind him. It still hurt. He loves Mari. More then anything, but he needs to do this. Yes, he has to do this.  
  
" **SHIT!** I can't believe Jowan, I just can't!"  
  
"I know, dear. Oh... Maker, Alistair-" Wynne's face paled slightly as she collapsed onto the Ex-Templar.  
  
"Wynne? Wynne, are you alright?"  
  
Wynne blinked a few times on Alistair's shoulder, rubbing her temples, "Yes, yes, just a dizzy spell. Stop fussing, I'm fine."  
  
"Wynne, I can take you back to camp," Mari muttered taking the old womans hand in hers.  
  
"No, no I'm fine. See. We have a young boy to save, so stop fussing, all of you."  
  
She wasn't fine. He and everyone else could see that as she hobbled away. This was all they needed being surrounded by the undead and Desire. If the old woman fell now, who knows what would happen to her spirit Faith. _Damn._  
  
Morgan shook his head at the stubborn old woman trying to go up a set of stairs, slapping Alistair's hands away from her. He slipped into his normal wolf form and followed Pinkeye out into a courtyard. More bodies lined the place, along the battlement strung up like puppets. The smell was overpowering his own senses and changed back to being normal. So much blood and filth hung and clung in the air around them, along with child's drawings in blood the walls. This child had no idea what he was doing.  
  
Everyone, including Pinkeye, had their hands over their mouths walking up the steps to the castle doors. The huge things were partially open, more stench and filth assaulted their senses. This was worse then the tower, much worse. But yet, this was not blood magic, this was a child and a demon butchering people, stringing them up like children's toys along the walls.  
  
Alistair waved his hand for them all to stop, then pointed to the end of the grand foyer, "Voices," he whispers.  
  
They all edged their way closer the the voices. Raucous laughter and cheers came from the place beyond, as well as sobbing. The stench of effluvia made his nose twitch the closer they got.  
  
"Yes, yes, dance uncle Teagan. Show mother what you can do."  
  
"Shit. That, doesn't sound like a little boy any more," Mari muttered, "Andraste's bloody arse, the smell!"  
  
"I know your out there. May as well come in, I'm bored anyway. These peons wont entertain me any more."  
  
_Damn the demon._  
  
Alistair pushed the door open more, they all reeled back at the sight. The boy had horns sprouting from his head. His eyes and hair were like purple flames. Long black claws inched a finger at them when they came into the room. There was no saving the child any longer, he was already the demons.  
  
"Oh well look at you all," the feminine voice chuckled out at them, "and pet spirits too, what joy!" The child demon jumped up and down, clapping his hands together and grinned an unnatural grin at them, "All so very pretty, all of you. Hmm, who shall I play with first?"  
  
"Connor, plea-"  
  
"Oh do shut up mother. Can't you see I'm busy," Connor backhands the woman next to him, sending her sprawling onto the floor. "Hmm. I. Pick. You!" he points straight at Alistair.  
  
Alistair's eyes go huge as he's pulled forward by the child demon, the thing cackling pulling him towards it. Vengeance tried to grab hold of him, but was sent flying backwards when the child demon waved it's hand at him, "No, you get to sit like a good little dog. All of you, **SIT!** "  
  
They all sit down on the floor. **DAMN!** The mortalised spirit was right, this was a powerful demon of Desire if it played them so.  
  
"Now, what ever shall I do with you my new toy? Oh I know, I know! Lets play, stab! Always my favourite! Uncle Teagan, bring me my knife, I have to practice my stabbing!"  
  
"No," Alistair whimpers shaking, "Maker, please don't."  
  
"Pah, your Maker wont do anything to help you. Hes gone you see, was never here to begin with. Now, stay still," Connor grinned the impossibly wide grin again. "You will look ever so pretty painted in red."  
  
"What do you want, Desire? Maybe we can give it to you."  
  
"Hawke, what are you doing? T'will kill us all!"  
  
"I'm trying to save his damn life, Morgan. So what do you want?" Mari asked Connor again, the child demon tapping his knife against his chin, thinking.  
  
"To watch him bleed pretty," and thrusted his knife into Alistair's gut.  
  
Morgan may hate the Ex-Templar with a passion, but this, no, this was not what he wanted to watch. Trying to break free of the bonds the demon put them all in, watching Alistair get stabbed over and over again, in his gut, his neck, his legs, everywhere. The sounds coming from the other mans mouth were horrible, and there was nothing they could do. His blood both dripped and poured onto the ground, Morgan tried to twitch a finger. He noticed Mari trying to do the same.  
  
They needed to stop the flow of blood, even if it's just a small amount. Even he couldn't watch the infuriating man die like this, being stabbed repeatedly by a demon in a child's body. Alistair's mouth gaping open like a fish, blood pouring out of it while his eyes roll up in his head.  
  
Connor sighed out loud dropping his knife onto the floor waving his other hand, dropping Alistair to the floor too. "Bored. Who's next? Oh, you, with the two colour eyes. Yes, yes. How very pretty. I want them."  
  
" **NO!** " Morgan screamed struggling against his bonds, the demon child sauntering over to them. And was that ever disturbing watching a child walk like a woman, hands running over his hips seductively. He wanted to be sick.  
  
"Hush, you'll have your turn as my toy, pretty Wolfie. But her eyes, _oh my_ , they are beautiful. I must simply have them!" the child demon clapped.  
  
Connor ran a claw over Mari's face, then grabbed it grinning again. "And these markings. I must have them too. I must simply have all of you. You get to live as my pet. Who's a good pet, you are, yes you are."  
  
"Get your hands off her!"  
  
"Ahh, Vengeance. I thought I told you to sit? Is your brother Justice here? Oh what a shame he isn't. He was such fun to be around with his righteousness. And you," Connor dipped his head, "how he tried to beat you into submission. How he tried to break you, to make you into him. And now you are here in their realm, where 'I' can break you instead."  
  
"Shut. Up. Fiend!"  
  
Morgan tried to turn his head to where the child demon was sauntering off too. His own brother, a spirit, beat him? Is this why Mari liked him, because he was a beaten spirit? Mari's head lolled forward followed by the rest of her slumping onto the floor. **NO**. He needed to do something, for her, for Alistair, for everyone here. He needed to break his bonds, he just had too, this thing was going to kill them all!  
  
"Morgan, keep still."  
  
"Hawke? Your-"  
  
"Yeah. Hold on," Mari looked up at him then behind her clawing her fingers together. The blood that was spilt on the ground undulated then heaved into life, snaking across the ground behind them.  
  
His bonds broke with the ear splitting scream from behind, all their bonds broke, he wasted no time changing his form to charge at the child demon writhing on the floor. Morgan picked the child up and snapped his neck with one hand, killing the boy instantly. There was a better way to deal with this, but the boy gave them no choice, he had to kill the child, free him from the bonds he created, pulling the Desire demon from within, out.  
  
Vengeance immediately stuck his hands out as the demon showed herself, deep purple lashed out wildly before latching onto the creature still writhing on the floor. It snaked around her body, twisting and pulling, forcing it's way into her skin. The spirit pulled his hands back sharply as the demon screamed, black ichor flowed out of her wounds in her skin. Vengeance sneered walking swiftly over to her, putting his hand on her head then backed away with a growl.  
  
"I will _**never**_ be broken. Not by you, by him, not by anyone. I am free."  
  
The demon writhed in agony again, her body undulating as the fade consumed her from the inside. Morgan was impressed by the older man, no, he was more then impressed, he was awed. He, was in awe of Vengeance. He has never seen anything like it, not even in his own travels within the fade. This mortal spirit was strong, powerful... and something else he still couldn't put a finger on.  
  
But, there was a serious problem as Mari and Wynne healed Alistair's barely moving body. He could see the Ex-Templar struggling to breathe, blood bubbles popping from the gashes in his chest, Mari doing her best to close each one with the blood spilt on the floor. She looked up at him with a pained expression, "Morgan, _please_."  
  
He put his own hands out, letting the mans own blood stitch him back together.  
  
"I- I have," Wynne shook on the ground paling, "have a request. If- if you will."  
  
Mari tilted her head at the old woman, "What is it?"  
  
Wynne smiled sadly at her, then up at him, "Lo-look after them both, an- and burn my-" she never finished when she collapsed forward onto Alistair.  
  
" **WYNNE!** " Mari pulled the woman from the Ex-Templar, but it was too late as the pale shimmer went in the dying form of Alistair. "Oh Wynne, no."  
  
She gave up her own life to save Alistair, to save Faith. Morgan gently took Wynne's body from Mari, laying her on the floor as Mari's bottom lip quivered looking at him. This, is what no-one wanted at all when they look at the Ex-Templars form, the slight flicker of Faith going throughout his skin before settling.  
  
His eyes opened as he gasped out loud blinking several times, Alistair's light brown eyes now pale blue, "Am...I- Am I, alive?"  
  
"Oh fucking hell Alistair, yes you are!" Mari choked back a laugh looking at him, "Is- can- Andraste's pert arse, Faith is in you Al!"  
  
" **WHAT!** Ow," Alistair tried to sit up, then grimaced clutching his side. He blinked his eyes a few times, a small smile crept over his lips then he just grinned, "Makers breath, I feel you Faith. I, I feel you. This is amazing, I feel you!"  
  
Morgan slowly stood up and walked away from them both. He needed to go think by himself for a while. He walked past Vengeance and Pinkeye talking to Teagan and the boys mother as she sobbed with her dead son in her arms. He walked through the grand foyer and down the steps then out of the castle, leaving them all behind when he flew up into the sky with a destination in mind.

* * *

  
"Can't find 'im anywhere, Hawke. He's gone. Nugshit!"  
  
"Makers fucking balls, you know why he would just up and go, Mari?"  
  
She shook her head at both of them, her shoulders slumping as she sat down. "Fuck if I know. Dammit," Mari gripped the arms of her chair tight shaking, "this is all we bloody well need. Andraste's bloody arse!"  
  
Alistair slowly shook his head sitting down next to her, "I would say I'm happy he's gone, but Maker, I'm not alright. Neither is Faith. He's actually pretty bloody upset he just up and left."  
  
They all looked at the library door opening, Vengeance shaking his head solemnly at them all. Mari just ground her teeth in what she hoped would be dust. _Of all the bloody, selfish, fucking, things someone could do!_  
  
"Well then," she huffed out, "thats just perfect. I'll send a raven to Nat back in camp. Oh, I just know Sten's going to spit Andraste's fire everywhere and Nat will want his sodding head. Just, you lot get some sleep. I'll be fine, okay."  
  
Alistair and Pinkeye nod their heads leaving her and Vengeance alone in the library. Mari glared at her backpack to where Flemeth's Grimoire once sat. Morgan took it back, fleeing with it to who sodding knows where. Four sodding days, four poxy sodding days its been. All of those days were sorting all this horror in Redcliffe out.  
  
They all cried watching Wynne's body being pyred, they all wept at the multitude of other bodies being pyred or sent out to sea set aflame. But Morgan just up and vanishing right now, was _not_ what she wanted at all. Vengeance furrowed his brow sitting next to her, resting his hand on her shoulder when she looked at him then down to her lap.  
  
"I am so sorry."  
  
Mari scoffed resting her hand on his, "For what? That he became a fucking coward? One night Ven," Mari looked at him. "I said I never wanted a one night thing thats not me, and he does this? Andraste's arse, I'm too sodding pissed right now."  
  
"I wish I had an answer for you, but," the spirit huffed out his breath looking into the fire, "I do not. Tis a very foolish thing he has done. Do you suppose the Templar were right? That all of this, what he did in coming with you, was convenient?"  
  
"Maybe. But still didn't give him the fucking right to just piss off now, does it? One night," Mari mumbled thinning her mouth. "One fucking night. Well," she slammed her hands on the table, pushing her chair back, "at least he finished what dad started. Accounts for something, right? I'm a big girl, I can get over it."  
  
Vengeance huffed again grabbing her arm before she left, "Odd eyes, its not right at all. You can put on a face all you want, hide behind everything. But eventually it will crash down. Trust me, I know."  
  
"Dad called him a good one! **A GOOD ONE!** And he back-stabs us?" Mari spat yanking her arm free. "Leaves us all in the fucking lurch, leaves _ME_ in the fucking lurch! The moment I put my trust into someone and he runs off like a coward, like a fucking dog with his tail between its legs. No," she smirks dipping her head down, "it won't crash down. I got everything I needed from his mothers book. I got what I needed. If he wants to run and hide. Let him."


	18. The Band of Blighters. (Ch Sixteen)

**Sixteen. Friends, Love, Liberty And A Slice Of Bitch On The Side.**

Mari the fennec ran around the camp, yipping and chirping out in annoyance. The little red bow attached to her tail as usual by Sten, though the giant had an angry face on. Nugs tits, Nat was just as angry when she stormed around the camp too. Of all the things someone could do to her friend, to them all, this was low.  
  
Theron picked Mari up and nuzzled his face into her fur to calm her down. Even though they all lost Wynne, Alistair was still very much alive with Faith in him. A bit, different, but very much alive. Nat still didn't exactly get the whole thing. Nugs balls, even though Wynne explained to her what happened, how they both lived together, she still didn't understand it. And then there was the tall hulking spirit elf!  
  
Nope, Nat wasn't in the mood for anything today, so packing shit up was a good way to calm her frayed nerves down. She could do with a drink, no, she could do with drinking an entire tavern dry with the storm raging inside her.  
  
And now, Alistair was looking at her again with his really pale blue eyes, a sad look on his face.  
  
" **WHAT!** "  
  
Alistair's eyes go a little wide before looking away. _Fucking sodding nugshitting mudhumper!_ Why the fuck was he looking at her like a kicked baby nug?  
  
"Mon ami, I think he wishes to speak with you."  
  
Nat looked up at Leliana, "I. Don't. Care. I ain't in the mood for anything today!"  
  
"Désolé, excusez-moi, I'll... go pack."  
  
"Yeah, yeah you go do that," Nat muttered pulling her tent apart with more force then she needed, flinging everything behind her like a spoilt little nug. A petulant little nug who feels his eyes on her again!  
  
" **WHAT DO YOU WANT AL!** " she shouts at him, gripping the canvas of her tent tight in her hands, "What ever it is, just fuck off with it, alright! I ain't in the mood for **ANYONES SHIT!** "  
  
"Nuglet! Whats got yer knickers in a twist? Tell yer ole man."  
  
"Not now dad. Please," _Oh well that did it. Here come the tears of the little nug crying again._  
  
Natlie threw the canvas on the floor and ran off into the copse behind the camp. Why did Morgan have to run away from Mari, from her, from them all? Why, she just didn't get it at all!  
  
Mari was alive. Yes, think of that. Your best friend on the surface is alive and well. She's fine, she'll be fine with the bulky elven spirit. Yes, think of that.  
  
Your dads alive and well. A werewolf, but alive and still loved you and Rica. Yes, think of that.  
  
Natlie stopped her impromptu run-a-way and lent on the nearest tree, everyone else was fine. Wynne maybe dead, but Faith was still alive. Very much alive in Alistair's body, with the Mages thoughts and memories still there. Morgan- well, Natlie got mad again kicking at the dirt on the ground.  
  
"Natlie. Please may we speak?"  
  
She huffed out a sigh and crossed her arms over her chest. "What do you want Faith?" she whined out looking the other way, "I'm too fucking pissed off right now."  
  
"I know I apologise. But please, listen to me."  
  
Nat nodded and waved her hand at him to continue.  
  
"Thank you. I know things are very stressful right now and I do not help matters being as I am with Alistair. I am here for you. What ever you need, I am here for you." Nat flinched feeling his hand go on her shoulder, "I can give council as Wynne did if you require it. I have her memories, feelings, thoughts and my own experiences. Alistair is not gone either, we are sharing the same body as much as Wynne and I."  
  
She looked up at him and sighed deeply at his pale blue eyes. _'Well'_ , she thought, _'Alistair actually looked really good with blue eyes.'_ And he was still a Templar, nothings really changed except her fellow warden was now with Faith, like he wanted.  
  
"I know, this shits all above my pay grade, well outta my league. Eh," she shrugs looking up at them again. "Soooo, do you look like Vengeance? Little pointy ears?"  
  
Faith raised an eyebrow at her, "No, I most certainly do not!" he sniffed. And then he did something Natlie has never heard from him. He... giggled!  
  
"You look sweet when your face scrunches up like that, Natlie!"  
  
Nat's eyes go huge at him, "You... what? Are you having a laugh? It don't- I don't! Stop looking at me like that!"  
  
"There it is again. That little nose scrunch. It, is, sweet."  
  
"No. _NO!_ You don't get to do that," Natlie shook her head at him, walking backwards to the camp. "Stop it!"  
  
But in reality, she just couldn't stop grinning when he nodded profusely at her. Yeah, she could live with this. She could live with the flirting and teasing from two who are one now.

Fuck, they were her sodding friends, so who's she to judge on that shit?

* * *

  
Natlie blew a raspberry, flinging her fingers up at some old dwarven statues as they rode through the Hinterlands again. Her father doing the same thing next to her. Ahh they really were alike when they look at each other and laugh. Neither one of them liked what the dwarves are right now. Change needed to happen or all the sodding dwarves would be surfacers, cloud-gazers like her and her father.  
  
Nat shook her head. No, what needed to happen is this: The dwarves on the surface should be allowed back into Orzammar, and those in Orzammar should be allowed on the surface whenever they want.

Yeah, thats what needed to happen. Maybe Bhelen would see to it. Maybe her sister Rica can live up here and still go back down under all that stone. Trade would be better, get better food, clothes, everything.  
  
She liked being up here now. The sky no longer scared the nugshit out of her. The moons are pretty to look at, laying under all the black and twinkling stars. And they were all missing out on it down under her feet!  
  
"To where are we supposed to be? Who is this man we need to find, I do not understand?"  
  
"Brother Genitivi, he's supposedly knows where Andraste is buried. Or so the Arlessa and Ban Teagan claimed," Mari supplied to Vengeance, "In Denerim, near a tavern. Been a _LONG_ time since I've been there. Long time since I've been this far up in the Bannorn."  
  
"A famous writer too! I have one of his books in my pack. Oh Fen, I almost forgot," Theron digs around in his pack and hands Mari something, "That's the copy from the werewolf lair. Hope you enjoy it."  
  
Mari grinned wide at him. "Thank you. Should give it to grumpy pants behind me, he'd be better off reading it then me right now."  
  
"I am most certainly not grumpy pants. I just do not understand why we have to find this man, then go find some dead womans urn."  
  
Faith through Alistair shook his head at Vengeance, "Because we need to heal the Arl. If we don't then we wont have an army for the Blight, brother. Just read the book, then you'll understand."  
  
"Kadan, what if we do find this Andraste's resting place, will you worship her, or will you still say 'Andraste's arse?'" Sten rode up next to them and grinned wide.  
  
Mari shrugged, "Couldn't tell you until we actually see it. If it's real, then I will never swear Andraste's name ever again. Well, maybe a little. But if you even think about saying that I should then consider the fucking Maker being real, you can kiss my damn arse Sten!"  
  
"Would never dream of it, Kadan. But your right, we shall see."  
  
"I have never seen your kind in my realm, Sten. Do your people not dream like Natlie and her father? Faith, have you seen his kind in the fade?" Vengeance frowned out at the giant.  
  
Sten hummed and shook his head, "Not always. I do sometimes find myself there, but more often then not, I do not dream. I can't miss what I don't really know, spirit."  
  
"He's right, Vengeance. Dwarves are eternally tired to the stone, whether they are above ground or not. The stone is what they are and how they dream. Qunari though, are different again," Faith tilted his head and smiled. "Wynne thought it was akin to being tranquil, but I don't think it is."  
  
Vengeance frowned even more, then gave up and sighed putting his head on Mari's shoulder. "At least you dream, odd eyes. I cannot fathom how those who have been cut away from everything put up with such barbarism. Tis not a pleasant thought if I were to be caught and severed from such, nor for you to be either."  
  
"I would try and kill myself before that would happen, or for someone to kill me so I wont be raped and abused by scum like Templars." Mari shuddered at the thought. She shook her head and sigh out quietly, feeling Ven's arms tighten around her more, "You alright?"  
  
Ven huffed in her ear, then laid his head on her shoulder, "Nope, but I will be. When do we plan to set up camp again?"  
  
"Soon, bulky elf, soon. Hey dad, know any good dirty songs from Tapsters? I know a few, but I think all us nugs need some new dirty songs."  
  
"Ahhh, nuglet, yer take afta yer old man too much," Pinkeye snickered, then started to sing.

* * *

  
Mari paid the raven courier to have the messages relaid to them at Dereham, seeing as they'll be staying put for a few days due to the weather in a rather nice tavern. Nat and her father were drinking heavily. Theron and the others were getting meals and rooms for everyone. But Ven, was standing by the window, looking down at the snow falling then at her when she smiled at him from outside. Ahh the joys of being borne Fereldan, the cold would never affect her at all.  
  
Ven raised an eyebrow at her then tilted his head when she grinned at him. Mari inched her finger for him to come outside, which made his other eyebrow raise up. She rolled her eyes at him and walked off down to the bakers, she had a craving for something utterly, typically Fereldan and something sweet. And there was nothing better the good ole lamb pasties and apple turnovers served with clotted cream.  
  
Ugh, she could eat a dozen of each right now, and drink a huge tankard of mead.  
  
"Where are you going in this cold? Void, is it _COLD!_ "  
  
Mari burst out laughing at Ven walking beside her mock chattering his teeth, "Seriously? Your cold. You lived in the sodding fade, you daft git."  
  
"Tis colder here then it is there. I have shrinkage," he whined, then snickered at her. "But where are you going?"  
  
"Shrink- I wont ask," Mari wrinkled her nose up then giggled, "I have a craving for some Fereldan delicacies from the baker. And then, a nice big tankard of mead to go with it all. One of those moods, Ven."  
  
"Food? Your going out in this snow for food! Go back to the tavern where is it warm, odd eyes. Where _'I'_ was nice and warm. Where _'We'_ can be nice and void taken warm, sitting in-front of a nice roaring fire _'WARM'_. T'would that not be more acceptable then being in frozen rain floating down from above?"  
  
Mari doubled over from laughter at him whining at her like a child. She's never heard anything like it before, "Andraste's pert backside, Ven, if your that cold go back. I grew up in the snow, and cold, and rain and mud and **I BLOODY LOVE IT!** " Mari grinned whirling around in a circle, then nearly fell flat on her arse when she stopped.  
  
"Insane, tis what you are! But I wont go anywhere without you. Never know who may just," he grabbed her from behind picking her up in his arms, "come and take you away. Bandits, Templars, a rather naughty spirit. You just never know."  
  
"Are you sure your Vengeance? More like Love or Joy," Mari chuckled out at him.  
  
"Can a spirit of Vengeance not love what he likes? Hmm, you may have a point. Who knows," he purrs in her ear while he walks with her still in his arms to the bakers, "I may just turn into Love."  
  
Mari just shook her head patting his arms while he lets her go. The smell from the bakers made her stomach growl loud, like unbearably loud, enough that it echoed going into the place. Ven stood outside waiting for her, but her mind wandered pointing to what she wants. Wandered slyly looking over her shoulder at the bulky spirit standing there, his large arms folded over his chest glaring at anyone who deigned to look at him.  
  
Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips paying for her treats. Her heart hammering in her chest slowly sauntering out from the bakers, slyly looking him over again. Picturing in her mind to when he was standing there stark bollock naked by the waters edge, his muscles all bunching up. Her betraying heart did that odd weird thing her chest when he looked at her, his eyebrow raising in a question. To which she just winked up at him then headed back to the tavern.  
  
"Odd eyes?"  
  
"Hmmm?" she smirked out shoving a package in his hands, "Yours, rest is mine."  
  
"Never mind," he huffed, puffs of white clouds lazily made its way up, then vanished when he did it again. "What is a knife-ear?"  
  
She stopped in her tracks, Ven nearly collided with her when she spun around. "Who said that? Who the fuck said knife-ear, Ven?"  
  
"A few of those people there called me that. What is it though?"  
  
"Oh really! _Really!_ Hold my shit," she shoved the rest of her packages into his arms. "Their gonna wish they never said that, Ven. One hell of a derogative term for elves. Andraste better look the other way," she cracked her knuckles, "Cos I'm gonna pound them into the dirt."  
  
He went to tell her it didn't matter, but she ran off to the people still talking, making lewd comments. Magic ran around in her hands glaring at the bastards, winking, smirking the closer she got. One, fuck, one of them whistled at her! Mari snarled her lip up, "The fucks your problem calling my friend a knife-ear, huh? Got nothing better to do then be pricks? Come here," she smirked lifting her palm up, "and give my magic a kiss."  
  
"What the- **OH FUCK!** "  
  
They all scarpered trying to get away from her. She thanked everything the snow was coming down a bit more heavily, covering what she was going to do. She wet her lips again catching one in her hold, squeezing the life from him with the force of her magic. Blood spurted out from his mouth painting the snow crimson. The others wet themselves, staining the snow yellow. Mari smirked again flinging her other hand out, catching them all in the lightening she struck out with.  
  
"Bend over and kiss the dirt," she grinned letting her magic come back wiping her hands slowly walking back to Ven, who was grinning just as wide as she was. "I think I made my point."  
  
"I think you killed them, odd eyes."  
  
"Semantics," she scoffed then squeaked loudly when he picked her up again, running back to the tavern. Mari sighed closing her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder. Fuck Morgan, he made his damn bed by running away a fortnight ago. Warmth enveloped her going into the heated place, breathing in the smell of the spirit deeply, letting it wash in and around her like a caress. Her back arched a little against his chest, wetting her lips again, feeling her whole body tighten when he bi-passed the main floor to the second. He bi-passed the others when she peaked her eyes open, snorting softly at Alistair and Leliana with their forehead's pressed together, talking in low voices.  
  
"You are sharing with me," Ven purred in her ear, "Pinkeye thought it prudent you be with someone, rather then be on your own right now."  
  
"Uh huh. I know what that fucking perverted werewolf's thinking."  
  
He chuckled loudly putting her down, pulling a wrought iron key out from his pocket, "T'what ever do you mean? There are two beds, two basins, two- well, two everything."  
  
Mari just shook her head softly following him in. _Huh, there really was two of everything._ Eh, not like it mattered when she kicked her boots off, pulling her hair free from its tie. She was hungry, she wanted a fucking drink, then, maybe she can curl up under the rather nice looking cover. Two jugs of mead were actually sitting on the center table, two mugs sat beside them, two plates when she put her treats on it. But her insides were bunching up something rotten when she looked atVen again, taking his own boots off with care, his doublet, his gloves, laying them all neatly down in his wardrobe.  
  
"Ven-" Andraste's arse, her voice sounded rough when she tried again. "Ven, I didn't think you drank. Never seen you gulp down the ale in camp."  
  
"The Templar gave me some after our fight. T'was quite delicious. The mead more so," he smiled coming do join her at the table, "Tis why theres two large jugs there. And you wished to have some with your meal. So, there you are."  
  
Mari's heart pounded hard in her chest, lowering her eyes to the lamb pasty. "Huh. Didn't think- Never mind. Least you can eat and drink," she smiled back at him. Her mind popped with him looking at her intently, his head cocked to one side slightly. Mari blushed looking back down at her food, chewing on her bottom lip.  
  
"You are aroused. Your pupils are dilated, odd eyes." Oh fuck her, his voice sounded as bad as her roughness did, "I didn't think- I thought- What you said back in the camp, did you mean it at the time?"  
  
"I did. I never say shit I don't mean. Dad taught me that, but," and there was her rough voice again slowly looking back at him, "I, well- fuck who am I kidding. Your fucking gorgeous, Ven. Bordering on being sinfully so. Me and him were, well, guess we ain't now. But you, shit- One person, one sodding person was all I ever wanted. I thought it- I thought-"  
  
He got up out of his chair bounding around the table, which just sent shivers over her body when he took her hand from playing with her pasty.  
  
"He left you. He left all of us in the hour of need, Mari," Ven knelt as much as he could next to her, her heart wanted to jump up on out of her ribcage right now. "Perhaps, t'was never meant to of been? I cannot fathom how- _No_ , no more talk of this. Look at me odd eyes, look at me and tell me what you wish."  
  
Mari breathed in slowly through her nose, parting her eyes to look at him. Her breath hitched right in the back of her throat, searching his beautiful face, his hair that she trimmed for him. The clothes she brought for him where no-one else would of done. Morgan wanted nothing from her, other then-

Fuck, she believed him, she fucking believed every word he said, wanting her, marking her. She was the one who spent her own hard earned money on the man-spirit, not Alistair, not Nat, none of them but her.  
  
"I should of listened to my fucking heart," her nose wrinkled up. "Should of realised what it was actually saying to me, rather then thinking what I wanted to hear. Fucking hell. I'm such an idiot. What I wish- No, what I want, need, everything, is there in-front of me right now. And I didn't fucking listen: You."  
  
"T'what did you call me when we first met?" his eyes gleamed with mischief again.  
  
"A handful."  
  
Ven never said anything else when he pulled her forward and kissed her. Mari melted against his lips, the bitter sweet tang of the fade skimming over her own, right through her core like wild fire. She turned around in her chair, carding her fingers through his mohawk, his own doing the same through her hair. Her legs wrapped around his waist the deeper they kissed, parting her lips so he could slip his tongue into her mouth. Mari softly moaned into it pulling herself tighter against him, then on-top of him when Ven went onto his back on the floor practically kicking chair over, nearly sending the table flying straddling his muscular thighs.  
  
A handful indeed feeling his impressive bulge press up hard into her. She moaned again grinding down on it, which in turn made Ven groan breaking the kiss, arching his neck the more she did it.  
  
"Mari," his voice purred out needily, "Void, yes."  
  
Her teeth scraped down his chin to his neck, her tongue tracing down his jugular feeling his pulse press against it. The rumbling in his chest got more and more, gripping her hips tight between his hands, arching his hips up as she ground down on him. She eked out a purring moan from his mouth when she gently bit right into his neck, Ven digging his nails in hard into her hips. The world flipped, Mari startled a bit now looking up with him between her legs now, rolling his hips hard into hers, his braid rolling over his shoulder brushing her arm.  
  
She couldn't take it any more, scrabbling to undo the buttons on her shirt, the man-spirit growling out low through his throat pulling his vest over his head, then scrabbled himself to unlace his leathers. Mari's breathing was harsh flinging her shirt, her breast band somewhere in the room trying to pull her own laces free. To which he just growled out at, slapping her hands away.  
  
"No, I do it," he dipped his head down laving his tongue down and over her pert nipples, flicking them going lower tracing down her tattoos. Who was she to deny him feeling her leathers being pulled away the lower he gets. Mari hissed through her teeth when he got to her wet sex, then moaned out loud arching her back up off the floor, feeling his tongue lick right on over her clit. She thinks her pants got thrown into the room, but her mind was a little preoccupied with Ven's tongue licking her out, her legs practically wrapped around his damn shoulders.  
  
"Andraste, turn the other way," she managed to pant out, gripping the back of his hair with her hand when his tongue breached. "Oh, ahh... fuuuuck."  
  
Ven hummed which just made her shiver, he hummed and purred going from her clit right back to her sex over and over again, until she was squirming right near her peak. Her hand still gripped the back of his head as he slowly made his way up her body, kissing, nipping, licking right up over her breasts. Mari's thighs were in a vice grip between his hands, she could feel his cock brush her down there, his tongue tracing over her lips. She nipped at his tongue, then sucked on it, tasting both herself on him and the fade etched behind it.  
  
Neither of them left the others gaze as they kissed deeply, but she did keen into his mouth with him sheathing himself into her. Mari's fingers dig into his hair and back the more he slides into her, the spirits eyes flutter closed breaking the kiss to softly groan against the side of her face. Oh hell and beyond, she keened a little more feeling him slide on back out, the fullness of him setting her mind and body on fire.  
  
Felt like she touched Andraste's fucking face and wept with joy. She felt like she skimmed the fade and embraced it. She felt alive with Ven languidly rolling his cock into her wet sex. Mari let his hair go to cling to his back, Ven's own hands pushing her legs closer to her chest parting them more.  
  
"Mari," he panted going deeper with his strokes, his rumbling voice was rough and raw when he said her name again. She would answer him to whatever he was trying to say, she was too lost scraping her nails down his back through the rippling muscles she could feel, bunching up and relaxing everytime he moved. Lips crashed against hers, tongue sought tongue, skin touched skin the more they rocked against the other. She could feel sweat form under her hands, she could feel her own bead and roll down her sides.  
  
Mari was far too gone in her own euphoric bliss, she was far too gone enjoying Vengeance far more then Morgan. She was far too gone arching her back up into his chest, his languid deep strokes getting more and more deeper and harder into her. Little sounds of unbridled moans, grunts and pants filled the room as much as the smell of heady sex did. The smell of male did. The smell of her own female scents.  
  
"Ven. Fuck, please," she begged arching up hard against his chest, "Aaaah fuck-"  
  
He growled low in his throat, spreading her legs more with his knees, pinning her hands to the rug and fucked her harder. Mari could feel her breasts bounce with every thrust, with every breath she panted out. Her throat was dry, her body ached and tightened around him. The sweat rolled from his brow right onto her bouncing tits. "Uuuuaaahh!" she screamed as she came, her eyes flying open with how hard it hit her like a bolt out the blue.  
  
But his pace never faltered driving her deeper into the ground, with his teeth grit and eyes closed, gripping her hands even tighter in his. Then- then- then his mouth fell open his own eyes just as wide, arching his back coming inside her. The strangled but stuttering panted gasp escaped his lips, the rumbling purr in his chest just made him smile, going back to languid slow strokes to calm himself down.  
  
Mari grunted when he collapsed on-top of her, then sighed kissing every bit of face she could see right there, carding her fingers through his sweaty hair.  
  
"Void, I think- I didn't- Void," he chuckled out resting on his elbows looking down at her. "T'was better then what you mortals deem it to be."  
  
"Andraste's tits, can say that again."  
  
"Mmmm, I think my perversion paid off a little. I can get used to that," Ven purred kissing her lips gently.  
  
Mari, was inclined to agree as she kissing him greedily.  
  
She was very much inclined to agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thats all folks ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
